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THE   PRECIPICE 


THE  PRECIPICE 

TRANSLATED  FROM 
THE   RUSSIAN    OF 

IVAN  GONCHAROV 

BY 

M.   BRYANT 


ALFRED   A.    KNOPF 
NEW  YORK   MCMXVI 


G(o 


PREFACE 

Ivan  Alexandrovich  Goncharov  (1812-1891)  was 
one  of  the  leading  members  of  the  great  circle  of 
Russian  writers  who,  in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  gathered  around  the  Sovremmenik  (Con- 
temporary) under  Nekrasov's  editorship — a  circle 
including  Turgenev,  Dostoyevsky,  Tolstoy,  Byelinsky, 
and  Herzen.  He  had  not  the  marked  genius  of  the 
first  three  of  these  ;  but  that  he  is  so  much  less  known 
to  the  western  reader  is  perhaps  also  due  to  the  fact 
that  there  was  nothing  sensational  either  in  his  life 
or  his  literary  method.  His  strength  was  in  the 
steady  delineation  of  character,  conscious  of,  but 
not  deeply  disturbed  by,  the  problems  which  were 
obsessing  and  distracting  smaller  and  greater  minds. 

Tolstoy  has  a  characteristically  prejudiced  reminis- 
cence :  "I  remember  how  Goncharov,  the  author, 
a  very  sensible  and  educated  man  but  a  thorough 
townsman  and  an  aesthete,  said  to  me  that,  after 
Turgenev,  there  was  nothing  left  to  write  about  in 
the  life  of  the  lower  classes.  It  was  all  used  up. 
The  life  of  our  wealthy  people,  with  their  amorousness 
and  dissatisfaction  with  their  lives,  seemed  to  him 
full  of  inexhaustible  subject-matter.  One  hero  kissed 
his  lady  on  her  palm,  and  another  on  her  elbow,  and 
a  third  somewhere  else.  One  man  is  discontented 
through  idleness,  another  because  people  don't  love 

GG6467 


vi  PREFACE 

him.  And  Goncharov  thought  that  in  this  sphere 
there  is  no  end  of  variety." 

In  fact,  his  greatest  success  was  the  portrait  of 
Oblomov  in  the  novel  of  that  name,  which  was  at 
once  recognised  as  a  peculiarly  national  character — 
a  man  of  thirty-two  years,  careless,  bored,  untidy, 
lazy,  but  gentle  and  good-natured.  In  the  present 
work,  now  translated  for  the  first  time  into  English, 
the  type  reappears  with  some  differences.  Raisky 
seems  to  have  been  "  born  tired."  He  has  plenty 
of  intelligence,  some  artistic  gifts,  charm,  and  an 
abundant  kindliness,  yet  he  achieves  nothing,  either 
in  work  or  in  love,  and  in  the  end  fades  ineffectually 
out  of  the  story.  "  He  knew  he  would  do  better  to 
begin  a  big  piece  of  work  instead  of  these  trifles  ;  but 
he  told  himself  that  Russians  did  not  understand 
hard  work,  or  that  real  work  demanded  rude  strength, 
the  use  of  the  hands,  the  shoulders,  and  the  back." 
"He  is  only  half  a  man,"  says  Mark  Volokov,  the 
wolfish  outlaw  who  quotes  Proudhon  and  talks  about 
"  the  new  knowledge,  the  new  life."  This  rascal, 
whose  violent  pursuit  of  the  heroine  produces  the 
tragedy  of  the  book,  is  a  much  less  convincing  figure, 
though  he  also  represents  a  reality  of  Russian  life  then, 
and  even  now. 

The  true  contrast  to  Raisky  of  which  Goncharov 
had  deep  and  sympathetic  knowledge  is  shown  in 
the  splendid  picture  of  the  two  women — Vera,  the 
infatuated  beauty,  and  Aunt  Tatiana,  whose  agony 
of  motherly  concern  and  shamed  remembrance  is 
depicted  with  great  power.  The  book  is  remarkable 
as  a  study  in  the  psychology  of  passionate  emotion  ; 
for  the  western  reader,  it  is  also  delightful  for  the 
glimpses  it  gives  of  the  old  Russian  country  life  which 

/' 


PREFACE  vii 

is  slowly  passing  away.  The  scene  lies  beside  one  of 
the  small  towns  on  the  Volga — "  like  other  towns, 
a  cemetery  .  .  .  the  tranquillity  of  the  grave.  What 
a  frame  for  a  novel,  if  only  he  knew  what  to  put  in 
the  novel.  ...  If  the  image  of  passion  should  float 
over  this  motionless,  sleepy  little  world,  the  picture 
would  glow  into  the  enchanting  colour  of  life."  The 
storm  of  passion  does  break  over  the  edge  of  the  hill 
overlooking  the  mighty  river,  and,  amid  the  wreckage, 
the  two  victims  rise  into  a  nobility  that  the  reckless 
reformer  and  the  pleasant  dilettante  have  never 
conceived. 

Goncharov  had  passed  many  years  in  Governmental 
service  and  had,  in  fact,  reached  the  age  of  thirty-five 
when  his  first  work,  "A  Common  Story,"  was  published. 
"  The  Frigate  Pallada,"  which  followed,  is  a  lengthy 
descriptive  account  of  an  official  expedition  to  Japan 
and  Siberia  in  which  Goncharov  took  part.  After  the 
publication  of  "  The  Precipice,"  its  author  was  moved 
to  write  an  essay,  "  Better  Late  Than  Never,"  in  which 
he  attempted  to  explain  that  the  purpose  of  his  three 
novels  was  to  present  the  eternal  struggle  between  East 
and  West — the  lethargy  of  the  Russian  and  the  ferment 
of  foreign  influences.  Thus  he  ranged  himself  more 
closely  with  the  great  figures  among  his  contemporaries. 
Two  other  volumes  consist  of  critical  study  and 
reminiscence. 


CHAPTER  I 

Boris  Pavlovich  Raisky  had  a  vivacious,  unusually 
mobile  face.  At  first  sight  he  appeared  younger  than 
his  3''ears.  The  high,  white  forehead  gave  an  impression 
of  freshness  and  vigour  ;  the  eyes  blazed  one  moment 
with  intelligence,  emotion  or  gaiety,  a  moment  later 
they  wore  a  meditative,  dreamy  expression,  then 
again  they  looked  young,  even  childlike.  At  other 
times  they  evidenced  knowledge  of  life,  or  looked 
so  weary,  so  bored  that  they  betrayed  their  owner's 
age ;  at  these  times  there  appeared  between  them 
three  furrows,  certain  indications  of  time  and  knowledge 
of  life.  Smooth  black  hair  fell  on  his  neck  and  half 
covered  the  ears,  with  here  and  there  silver  threads 
about  the  temples.  His  complexion  had  kept  the 
tints  of  youth  except  on  the  temples  and  the  chin, 
which  were  a  brownish-yellow  colour. 

It  was  easy  to  guess  from  his  physiognomy  that 
the  conflict  between  youth  and  maturity  was  past, 
that  he  had  passed  the  early  stages  of  life's  journey 
and  that  sorrow  and  sickness  had  left  their  marks 
on  him.  Only  the  mouth,  with  its  delicate  lines,  with 
the  fresh,  almost  childlike  smile  remained  unchanged 
by  age. 

He  had  been  left  an  orphan  in  childhood,  and  for 
some  time  his  indifferent,  bachelor  guardian  had 
left  his  education  to  a  relative,  Boris's  aunt. 

This  lady  was  endowed  with  a  rich  temperament, 
but  her  horizon  did  not  stretch  far  beyond  her  own 
home,  where  in  the  tranquil  atmosphere  of  woods 
and  gardens,  in  the  environment  of  the  family  and 
the  estate,  Boris  had  passed  several  years.  When 
he  grew  older  his  guardian   sent  him   to  the   High 


10  THE  PRECIPICE 

School,  where  the  family  traditions  of  former  wealth 
and  of  the  connexion  with  other  old  noble  families 
faded. 

His  further  development,  occupations  and  inclinations 
led  him  still  further  from  the  traditions  of  his  child- 
hood. Raisky  had  lived  for  about  ten  years  in  St. 
Petersburg  ;  that  is  to  say  he  rented  three  pleasant 
rooms  from  a  German  landlord,  which  he  retained, 
although  after  he  had  left  the  civil  service  he  rarely 
spent  two  successive  half-years  in  the  capital. 

He  had  left  the  civil  service  as  casually  as  he  had 
entered  it,  because,  when  he  had  had  time  to  consider 
his  position,  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  service 
is  not  an  aim  in  itself,  but  merely  a  means  to  bring 
together  a  number  of  men  who  would  otherwise 
have  had  no  justification  for  their  existence.  If 
these  men  had  not  existed,  the  posts  which  they 
filled  need  never  have  been  created. 

Now,  he  had  already  passed  his  thirtieth  year,  and 
had  neither  sowed  nor  reaped.  He  did  not  follow 
the  same  path  as  the  other  ordinary  arrival  from 
the  interior  of  Russia,  for  he  was  neither  an  officer 
nor  an  official,  nor  did  he  seek  a  career  for  himself 
by  hard  work  or  by  influence.  He  was  inscribed  in 
the  registers  of  his  police  district  as  a  civil  servant. 

It  would  have  been  hard  for  the  expert  in  physiog- 
nomy to  decipher  Raisky's  characteristics,  inclinations 
and  character  from  his  face  because  of  its  extraordinary 
mobility.  Still  less  could  his  mental  physiognomy 
be  defined.  He  had  moments  when,  to  use  his  own 
expression,  he  embraced  the  whole  w  rid,  so  that 
many  people  declared  that  there  was  no  kinder,  more 
amiable  man  in  existence.  Others,  on  the  contrary, 
who  came  across  him  at  an  unfortunate  moment, 
when  the  yellow  patches  on  his  face  were  most  marked, 
when  his  lips  were  drawn  in  a  sinister,  nervous  quiver, 
and  he  returned  kindness  and  sympathy  with  cold 
looks  and  sharp  words,  were  repelled  by  him  and 
even  pursued  him  with  their  dislike.  Some  called 
him  egotistic  and  proud,  while  others  declared  them- 
selves enchanted  with  him  ;  some  again  maintained 


THE  PRECIPICE  ii 

that  he  was  theatrical,  others  that  he  was  not  to  be 
trusted.  Two  or  three  friends  judged  otherwise. 
"  A  noble  nature,"  they  said,  "  most  honourable, 
but  with  all  its  virtues,  nervous,  passionate,  excitable, 
fiery  tempered.  ..."  So  there  had  never  been  any 
unanimous  opinion  of  him. 

Even  in  early  childhood  while  he  lived  with  his 
aunt,  and  later,  after  his  school-days  had  begun,  he 
showed  the  same  enigmatic  and  contradictory  traits. 

It  might  be  expected  that  the  first  effort  of  a  new 
boy  would  be  to  listen  to  the  teacher's  questions  and 
the  pupils'  answers.  But  Raisky  stared  at  the  teacher, 
as  if  seeking  to  impress  on  his  memory  the  details  of 
his  appearance,  his  speech,  how  he  took  snuff ;  he 
looked  at  his  eyebrows,  his  beard,  then  at  his  clothes, 
at  the  cornelian  seal  suspended  across  his  waistcoat, 
and  so  en.  Then  he  would  observe  each  of  the  other 
boys  and  note  their  peculiarities,  or  he  would  study 
his  own  person,  and  wonder  what  his  own  iace  was 
like,  what  the  others  thought  of  him.  .  .  . 

"  What  did  I  say  just  now  ?  "  interrupted  the 
master,  noticing  Boris's  wandering  glance. 

To  the  teacher's  amazement  Boris  replied  word 
for  word,  "  And  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  "  He 
had  listened  mechanically,  and  had  caught  the  actual 
syllables. 

The  master  repeated  his  explanation,  and  again 
Boris  caught  the  sound  of  his  voice,  noticing  that 
sometimes  he  spoke  shortly,  staccato — sometimes 
drawled  as  if  he  were  singing,  and  then  rapped  out 
his  words  smartly  like  nuts. 

"  Well  ?  " 

Raisky  blushed,  perspired  with  anxiety,  and  was 
silent. 

It  was  the  mathematical  master.  He  went  to 
the  blackboard,  wrote  up  the  problem,  and  again 
began  the  explanation.  Raisky  only  noticed  with 
what  rapidity  and  certainty  he  wrote  the  figures, 
how  the  waistcoat  with  the  cornelian  seal  and  then 
the  snuff-spattered  shirt  front  came  nearer— nothing, 
except  the  solution  of  the  problem,  escaped  him. 


12  THE  PRECIPICE 

Now  and  then  a  notion  penetrated  to  his  brain, 
but  when  it  came  to  equations  he  grew  weary  with 
the  effort  required.  Sometimes  the  teacher  lost 
patience  with  him,  and  generally  concluded :  "Go 
back  to  your  place,  you  are  a  blockhead." 

But  if  a  whiff  of  originality  passed  over  the  master 
himself,  if  he  taught  as  if  it  were  a  game,  and  had 
recourse  neither  to  his  book  nor  to  the  blackboard, 
then  the  solution  flashed  on  Raisky,  and  he  found  the 
answer  quicker  than  any  of  the  others. 

He  consumed  passionately  history,  novels  and  tales  ; 
wherever  he  could  he  begged  for  books.  But  he 
did  not  like  facts  or  theories  or  anything  that  drew 
him  from  the  world  of  fancy  towards  the  world  of 
reality.  In  the  geography  lesson  he  could  not  under- 
'stand  how  any  boy  could  answer  in  class,  but  once 
out  of  class  he  could  talk  about  foreign  countries 
and  cities,  or  about  the  sea,  to  the  amazement  of 
his  class-mates.  He  had  not  learnt  it  from  the  teacher 
or  from  a  book,  but  he  gave  a  picture  of  the  place 
as  if  he  had  actually  been  there. 

"You  are  inventing,"  a  sceptical  listener  would  say. 
"  Vassili  Nikitich  never  said  that." 

His  companions  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  him, 
for  his  sympathies  changed  so  often  that  he  had 
neither  constant  friends  nor  constant  enemies.  One 
week  he  would  attach  himself  to  one  boy,  seek  his 
society,  sit  with  him,  read  to  him,  talk  to  him  and 
give  him  his  confidence.  Then,  for  no  reason,  he 
would  leave  him,  enter  into  close  relations  with  another 
boy,  and  then  as  speedily  forget  him. 

If  one  of  his  companions  annoyed  him  he  became 
angry  with  him  and  pursued  hostilities  obstinately 
long  after  the  original  cause  was  forgotten.  Then 
suddenly  he  would  have  a  friendly,  magnanimous 
impulse,  would  carefully  arrange  a  scene  of  reconcil- 
iation, which  interested  everyone,  himself  most  of  all. 

When  he  was  out  of  school,  everyday  life  attracted 
him  very  little  ;  he  cared  neither  for  its  gayer  side 
nor  its  sterner  activities.  If  his  guardian  asked  him 
how  the  corn  should  be  threshed,  the  cloth  milled 


THE  PRECIPICE  13 

or  linen  bleached,  he  turned  away  and  went  out  on  to 
the  verandah  to  look  out  on  the  woods,  or  made  his 
way  along  the  river  to  the  thicket  to  watch  the  insects 
at  work,  or  to  observe  the  birds,  to  see  how  they 
ahghted,  how  they  sharpened  their  beaks.  He  caught 
a  hedgehog  and  made  a  playmate  of  it,  went  out 
fishing  all  day  long  with  the  village  boys,  or  listened 
to  the  tales  about  Pugachev  told  by  a  half-witted 
old  woman  living  in  a  mud  hut,  greedily  drinking 
in  the  most  singular  of  the  horrible  incidents  she 
related,  while  he  looked  into  the  old  woman's  toothless 
mouth  and  into  the  caverns  of  her  fading  eyes. 

For  hours  he  would  listen  with  morbid  curiosity 
to  the  babble  of  the  idiot  Feklusha.  At  home  he 
read  in  the  most  desultory  way.  He  deemed  the 
secrets  of  Eastern  magic,  Russian  tales  and  folk-lore, 
skimmed  Ossian,  Tasso,  Homer,  or  wandered  with 
Cook  in  strange  lands.  If  he  found  nothing  to  read 
he  lay  motionless  all  day  long,  as  if  he  were  exhausted 
with  hard  work  ;  his  fancy  carried  him  beyond  Ossian 
and  Homer,  beyond  the  tales  of  Cook,  until  fevered 
with  his  imaginings  he  rose  tired,  exhausted,  and 
unable  for  a  long  time  to  resume  normal  life. 

People  called  him  an  idler.  He  feared  this 
accusation,  and  wept  over  it  in  sercet,  though  he  was 
convinced  that  he  was  no  idler,  but  something  different, 
that  no  one  but  himself  comprehended. 

Unfortunately,  there  was  no  one  to  guide  him  in  a 
definite  direction.  On  the  one  hand,  his  guardian 
merely  saw  to  it  that  his  masters  came  at  stated  times 
and  that  Boris  did  not  avoid  school ;  on  the  other,  his 
aunt  contented  herself  with  seeing  that  he  was  in 
good  health,  ate  and  slept  well,  was  decently  dressed, 
and  as  a  well-brought-up  boy  should,  did  not  consort 
with  every  village  lout. 

Nobody  cared  to  see  what  he  read  ;  his  aunt  gave  him 
the  keys  of  his  father's  library  in  the  old  house,  where 
he  shut  himself  in,  now  to  read  Spinoza,  now  a  novel, 
and  another  day  Voltaire  or  Boccaccio. 

He  made  better  progress  in  the  arts  than  in  the 
sciences.     Here  too  he  had  his  tricks.     One  day  the 


14  THE  PRECIPICE 

teacher  set  the  pupils  to  draw  eyes,  but  Raisky  grew 
tired  of  that,  and  proceeded  to  add  a  nose  and  a 
moustache.  The  master  surprised  him,  and  seized  him 
by  the  hair.  When  he  looked  closer  at  the  drawing, 
however,  he  asked  :  "  Where  did  you  learn  to  do 
that  ?  " 

"  Nowhere,"  was  the  reply. 

"  But  it  is  well  done,  my  lad.  See  yourself  what 
this  hurry  to  get  on  leads  to  ;  the  forehead  and  nose 
are  good  enough,  but  the  ear  you  have  put  in  the 
wrong  place,  and  the  hair  looks  like  tow." 

Raisky  was  triumphant  The  words,  "  But  it  is 
well  done  ;  the  forehead  and  nose  are  good  enough," 
were  for  him  a  crown  of  laurel. 

He  walked  round  the  school  yard  proud  in  the 
consciousness  that  he  was  the  best  in  the  drawing 
class  ;  this  mood  lasted  to  the  next  day,  when  he  came 
to  grief  in  the  ordinary  lessons.  But  he  conceived  a 
passion  for  drawing,  and  during  the  month  that 
followed  drew  a  curly-headed  boy,  then  the  head  of 
Fingal,  His  fancy  was  caught  by  a  woman's  head 
which  hung  in  the  master's  room  ;  it  leaned  a  little 
towards  one  shoulder,  and  looked  away  into  the 
distance  with  melancholy,  meditative  eyes.  "  Allow 
me  to  make  a  copy,"  he  begged  with  a  gentle,  tremulous 
voice,  and  with  a  nervous  quiver  of  the  upper  lip. 

"  Don't  break  the  glass,"  the  master  warned  him, 
and  gave  him  the  picture. 

Boris  was  happy.  For  a  whole  week  his  masters  did 
not  secure  a  single  intelligent  answer  from  him.  He 
sat  silently  in  his  corner  and  drew.  -  At  night  he  took 
the  drawing  to  his  bedroom,  and  as  he  looked  into 
its  gracious  eyes,  followed  the  lines  of  the  delicately 
bent  neck,  he  shivered,  his  heart  stood  still,  there  was 
a  catch  in  his  breath,  and  he  closed  his  eyes  ;  with  a 
faint  sigh  he  pressed  the  picture  to  his  breast  where 
the  breath  came  so  painfully — and  then  there  was  a 
crash  and  the  glass  fell  clattering  on  the  floor. 

When  he  had  drawn  the  head  his  pride  knew  no 
bounds.  His  work  was  exhibited  with  the  drawings 
of  pupils  of  the  top  class,  the  teacher  had  made  few 


THE  PRECIPICE  15 

corrections,  had  only  here  and  there  put  broad  strokes 
in  the  shading,  had  drawn  three  or  four  more  decided 
Hnes,  had  put  a  point  in  each  eye — and  the  eyes  were 
now  hke  Hfe. 

"  How  lifelike  and  bold  it  is  !  "  thought  Raisky,  as 
he  looked  at  the  strokes  inserted  by  his  master,  and 
more  especially  at  the  points  in  the  eyes,  which  had  so 
suddenly  given  tnem  the  look  of  life.  This  step  forward 
intoxicated  him.     "  Talent  !  Talent  !  "  sang  in  his  ears. 

He  sketched  the  maids,  the  coachman,  the  peasants 
of  the  countryside.  He  was  particularly  successful 
with  the  idiot  Feklusha,  seated  in  a  cavern  with  her 
bust  in  the  shade,  and  the  light  on  her  wild  hair  ;  he 
had  not  the  patience  nor  the  skill  to  finish  bust,  hands 
and  feet.  How  could  anybody  be  expected  to  sit 
still  all  the  morning,  when  the  sun  was  shedding  its 
rays  so  gaily  and  so  generously  on  stream  and  meadow  ? 

Within  three  days  the  picture  had  faded  in  his 
imagination,  and  new  images  were  thronging  his 
brain.  He  would  like  to  have  drawn  a  round  dance, 
a  drunken  old  man,  the  rapid  passage  of  a  troika.  For 
two  days  he  was  taken  up  with  this  picture,  which 
stood  before  his  mind's  eye  in  every  detail ;  the  peasants 
and  the  women  were  finished,  but  not  the  waggon 
with  its  three  fleet  horses. 

In  a  week  he  had  forgotten  this  picture  also. 

He  loved  music  to  distraction.  At  school  he  had 
an  enduring  affection  for  the  dull  Vassyvkov,  who  was 
the  laughing  stock  of  the  other  boys.  A  boy  would 
seize  Vassyvkov  by  the  ear,  crying,  "  Get  out,  stupid, 
blockhead,"  but  Raisky  stood  by  him,  because 
Vassyvkov,  inattentive,  sleepy,  idle,  who  never  did 
his  work  even  for  the  universally  beloved  Russian 
master,  would  every  afternoon  after  dinner  take  his 
violin,  and  as  he  played,  forget  the  school,  the  masters 
and  the  nose-pullings.  His  eyes  as  they  gazed  into 
the  distance,  apparently  seeking  something  strange, 
enticing,  and  mysterious,  became  wild  and  gloomy, 
and  often  filled  with  tears. 

He  was  no  longer  Vassyvkov,  but  another  creature. 
His  pupils  dilated,  his  eyes  ceased  to  blink,  becoming 


i6  THE  PRECIPICE 

clearer  and  deeper ;  his  glance  was  proud  and  intelligent ; 
his  breath  came  long  and  deep.  Over  his  face  stole 
an  expression  of  happiness,  of  gentleness  ;  his  eyes 
became  darker  and  seemed  to  radiate  light.  In  a 
word  he  became  beautiful. 

Raisky  began  to  think  the  thoughts  of  Vassyvkov, 
to  see  what  he  saw.  His  surroundings  vanished,  and 
boys  and  benches  were  lost  in  a  mist.  More  notes  .  .  . 
and  a  wide  space  opened  before  him.  A  world  in 
motion  arose.  He  heard  the  murmur  of  running 
streams,  saw  ships,  men,  woods,  and  drifting  clouds  ; 
everywhere  was  light,  motion,  and  gaiety.  He  had 
the  sensation  that  he  himself  was  growing  taller,  he 
caught  his  breath.  .  .  . 

The  dream  continued  just  so  long  as  the  notes  were 
heard.  Suddenly  he  heard  a  noise,  he  was  awakened 
with  a  start,  Vassyvkov  had  ceased  to  play  ;  the 
moving,  musical  waves  vanished,  and  there  were  only 
the  boys,  benches  and  tables.  Vassyvkov  laid  aside 
his  violin,  and  somebody  tweaked  his  ear.  Raisky 
threw  himself  in  a  rage  on  the  offender,  struck  him — 
all  the  while  possessed  by  the  magic  notes. 

Every  nerve  in  his  body  sang.  Life,  thought, 
emotion  broke  in  waves  in  the  seething  sea  of  his 
consciousness.  The  notes  strike  a  chord  of  memory. 
A  cloud  of  recollection  hovers  before  him,  shaping  the 
figure  of  a  woman  who  holds  him  to  her  breast.  He 
gropes  in  his  consciousness — it  was  thus  that  his 
mother's  arms  cradled  him,  his  face  pressed  to  her 
breast  .  .  .  her  figure  grows  in  distinctness,  as  if  she 
had  risen  from  the  grave.  .  .  . 

He  had  begun  to  take  lessons  from  Vassyvkov.  For 
a  whole  week  he  had  been  moving  the  bow  up  and 
down,  but  its  scratching  set  his  teeth  on  edge.  He 
caught  two  strings  at  once,  and  his  hand  trembled  with 
weakness.  It  was  clearly  no  use.  When  Vassyvkov 
played  his  hand  seemed  to  play  of  itself.  Tired  of 
the  torment,  Raisky  begged  his  guardian  to  allow 
him  to  take  piano  lessons. 

"  It  will  be  easier  on  the  pianoforte,"  he  thought. 

His    guardian    engaged     a    German     master,    but 


F 


THEI  PRECIPICE  17 

took  the  opportunity  of  saying  a  few  words  to  his 
nephew. 

"  Boris,"  he  said,  "  for  what  are  you  preparing 
yourself  ?  I  have  been  intending  to  ask  you  for  a 
long  time." 

Boris  did  not  understand  the  question,  and  made 
no  answer. 

"  You  are  nearly  sixteen  years  old,  and  it  is  time 
you  began  to  think  of  serious  things.  It  is  plain  that 
you  have  not  yet  considered  what  faculty  you  will 
follow  in  the  University,  and  to  which  branch  of  the 
service  you  will  devote  yourself.  You  cannot  well 
go  into  the  army,  because  you  have  no  great  fortune, 
and  yet,  for  the  sake  of  your  family,  could  hardly  serve 
elsewhere  than  in  the  Guards. 

Boris  was  silent,  and  watched  through  the  window 
how  the  hens  strutted  about,  how  the  pigs  wallowed 
in  the  mire,  how  the  cat  was  stalking  a  pigeon.  .  .  . 

"  I  am  speaking  to  you  seriously,  and  you  stare  out 
of  the  window.  For  what  future  are  you  preparing 
yourself  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  be  an  artist." 

"  Wha-at  ?  " 

"  An  artist." 

"  The  devil  only  knows  what  notions  you  have 
got  into  your  head.  Who  would  agree  to  that  ? 
Do  you  even  know  what  an  artist  is  ?  " 

Raisky  made  no  answer. 

"  An  artist  ...  is  a  man  who  borrows  money  from 
you,~Dr  chatters  foolish  nonsense,  and  drives  you  to 
distraction.  .  .  .  Artist  !  .  .  .  These  people  lead  a 
wild  gipsy  life,  are  destitute  of  money,  clothes,  shoes, 
and  all  the  time  they  dream  of  wealth.  Artists  live 
on  this  earth  like  the  birds  of  heaven.  I  have  seen 
enough  of  them  in  St.  Petersburg  :  bold  rascals  who 
meet  one  another  in  the  evening  dressed  in  fantastic 
costumes,  lie  upon  divans,  smoke  pipes,  talk  about 
trifles,  read  poetry,  drink  brandy  and  declare  that  they 
are  artists.     Uncombed,  unwashed.  .  .  ." 

"  I  have  heard.  Uncle,  that  artists  are  now  held  in 


i8  THE  PRECIPICE 

high  esteem.     You  are  thinking  of  the  past.     Now, 
the  Academy  produces  many  famous  people." 

"  I  am  not  very  old,  and  I  have  seen  the  world. 
You  have  heard  the  bells  ring,  but  do  not  know  in 
what  tower.  Famous  people !  There  are  famous 
artists  as  there  are  famous  doctors.  But  when  do 
they  achieve  fame  ?  When  do  they  enter  the  service 
and  reach  the  rank  of  Councillor  ?  If  a  man  builds 
a  cathedral  or  erects  a  monument  in  a  public  place, 
then  people  begin  to  seek  him  out.  But  artists  begin 
in  poverty,  with  a  crust  of  bread.  You  will  find  they 
are  for  the  most  part  freed  serfs,  small  tradespeople 
or  foreigners,  or  Jews.  Poverty  drives  them  to  art. 
But  you — a  Raisky  !  You  have  land  of  your  own, 
and  bread  to  eat.  It's  pleasant  enough  to  have 
graceful  talents  in  society,  to  play  the  piano,  to  sketch 
in  an  album,  and  to  sing  a  song,  and  I  have  therefore 
engaged  a  German  professor  for  you.  But  what  an 
abominable  idea  to  be  an  artist  by  profession  !  Have 
you  ever  heard  of  a  prince  or  a  count  who  has  painted 
a  picture,  or  a  nobleman  who  has  chiselled  a  statue  ? 
No,  and  why  ?  " 

"  What  about  Rubens  ?  He  was  a  courtier,  an 
ambassador.  ..." 

"  Where  have  you  dug  that  out  ?  Two  hundred 
years  ago.  .  .  .  Among  the  Germans  .  .  .  but  you  are 
going  to  the  University,  to  enter  the  faculty  of  law, 
then  you  will  study  for  the  service  in  St.  Petersburg, 
try  to  get  a  position  as  advocate,  and  your  connexions 
will  help  you  to  a  place  at  court.  And  if  you  keep 
your  eyes  open,  with  your  name  and  your  connexions, 
you  will  be  a  Governor  in  thirty  years'  time.  That  is 
the  career  for  you.  But  there  seem  to  be  no  serious 
ideas  in  your  head  ;  you  catch  fish  with  the  village 
boors,  have  sketched  a  swamp  and  a  drunken  beggar, 
but  you  have  not  the  remotest  idea  of  when  this  or 
that  crop  should  be  sown,  or  at  what  price  it  is  sold." 

Raisky  trembled.  His  guardian's  lecture  affected 
his  nerves. 

Like  Vassyvkov,  the  music  master  began  to  bend 
his  fingers.     If  Raisky  had  not  been  ashamed  before  his 


THE  PRECIPICE  19 

guardian  he  would  not  have  endured  the  torture. 
As  it  was  he  succeeded  in  a  few  months,  after  much 
trouble,  in  completing  the  first  stages  of  his  instruction. 
Very  soon  be  surpassed  and  surprised  the  local  young 
ladies  by  the  strength  and  boldness  of  his  playing. 
His  master  saw  his  abilities  were  remarkable,  his 
indolence  still  more  remarkable. 

That,  he  thought,  was  no  misfortune.  Indolence 
and  neghgence  are  native  to  artists.  He  had  been 
told  too  that  a  man  who  has  talent  should  not  work 
too  hard.  Hard  work  is  only  for  those  with  moderate 
abilities. 


CHAPTER  n 

Raisky  entered  the  University,  and  spent  the  summer 
vacation  with  his  aunt,  Tatiana  Markovna  Berezhkov. 

His  aunt  lived  in  a  family  estate  which  Boris  had 
inherited  from  his  mother — a  piece  of  land  on  the 
Volga,  close  by  a  little  town,  with  fifty  souls  and 
two  residences,  one  built  of  stone  and  now  neglected, 
the  other  a  wooden  building  built  by  Boris's  father. 
In  this  newer  house  Tatiana  Markovna  lived  with 
two  orphan  girls  of  six  and  five  years  old  respectively, 
who  had  been  left  in  her  care  by  a  niece  whom  she 
had  loved  as  a  daughter. 

Tatiana  Markovna  had  an  estate  and  a  village 
of  her  own,  but  after  the  death  of  Raisky's  parents  she 
had  established  herself  on  their  little  estate,  which  she 
ruled  like  a  miniature  kingdom,  wisely,  economically, 
carefully  and  despotically.  She  never  permitted  Boris's 
guardian  to  interfere  in  her  business,  took  no  heed  of 
documents,  papers,  or  deeds,  but  carried  on  the  affairs 
of  the  estate  according  to  the  practice  of  its  former 
owners.  She  told  Boris's  guardian  that  all  the  docu- 
ments, papers  and  deeds  were  inscribed  in  her  memory, 
and  that  she  would  render  account  to  Boris  when  he 
came  of  age ;  until  that  day  came  she,  according 
to  the  verbal  instructions  of  his  parents,  was  mistress 


20  THE  PRECIPICE 

of  the  estate.  Boris's  guardian  was  content.  It 
was  an  excellent  estate,  and  could  not  be  better 
administered  than  by  the  old  lady. 

What  a  Paradise  Raisky  evolved  for  himself  in 
this  corner  of  the  earth,  from  which  he  had  been  taken 
away  in  his  childhood  and  where  he  had  spent  many 
a  summer  visit  in  his  schooldays.  What  views  in 
the  neighbourhood !  Every  window  in  the  house 
framed  a  lovely  landscape.  From  one  side  could  be 
seen  the  Volga  with  its  steep  banks  ;  from  the  others 
wide  meadows  and  gorges,  and  the  whole  seemed  to 
melt  into  the  distant  blue  hills.  From  the  third 
side  could  be  seen  fields,  villages,  and  part  of  the 
town.  The  air  was  cool  and  invigorating,  and  as 
refreshing  as  a  bathe  on  a  summer  day. 

In  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  the  two  houses 
the  great  park,  with  its  dark  alleys,  arbours  and  seats, 
was  kept  in  good  order,  but  beyond  these  limits  it 
was  left  wild.  There  were  broad  stretching  elms, 
cherry  and  apple  trees,  service  trees,  and  there  were 
lime  trees  intended  to  form  an  avenue,  which  lost 
itself  in  a  wood  in  the  friendly  neighbourhood  of 
pines  and  birches.  Suddenly  the  whole  ended  in 
a  precipice,  thickly  overgrown  with  bushes,  which 
overhung  a  plain  about  one  and  a-half  versts  in  breadth 
along  the  banks  of  the  Volga. 

Nearer  the  wooden  house  lay  the  vegetable  garden, 
and  just  in  front  of  its  windows  lay  the  flower  garden, 
Tatiana  Markovna  liked  to  have  a  space  clear  of 
trees  in  front  of  the  house,  so  that  the  place  was 
flooded  with  sunshine  and  the  scent  of  flowers.  From 
the  other  side  of  the  house  one  could  watch  all  that 
was  going  on  in  the  courtyard  and  could  see  the 
servants'  quarters,  the  kitchens,  the  hayricks,  and 
the  stable.  In  the  depths  of  the  courtyard  stood 
the  old  house,  gloomy,  always  in  shadow,  stained 
with  age,  with  here  and  there  a  cracked  window  pane, 
with  heavy  doors  fastened  by  heavy  bolts,  and  the 
path  leading  up  to  it  overgrown  with  grass.  But 
on  the  new  house  the  sun  streamed  from  morning  to 
night ;  the  flower  garden,  full  of   roses  and  dahlias. 


THE  PRECIPICE  21 

surrounded  it  like  a  garland,  and  the  gay  flowers 
seemed  to  be  trying  to  force  their  way  in  through 
the  windows.  Swallows  nesting  under  the  eaves 
flew  hither  and  thither  ;  in  the  garden  and  the  trees 
there  were  hedge-sparrows,  siskins  and  goldfinches, 
and  when  darkness  fell  the  nightingale  began  to  sing. 
Around  the  flowers  there  were  swarms  of  bees,  humble- 
bees,  dragon-flies,  and  glittering  butterflies  ;  and  in 
the  corners  cats  and  kittens  stretched  themselves 
comfortably  in  the  sunshine. 

In  the  house  itself  peace  and  joy  reigned.  The  rooms 
were  small,  but  cosy.  Antique  pieces  of  furniture 
had  been  brought  over  from  the  great  house,  as 
had  the  portraits  of  Raisky's  parents  and  grand- 
parents. The  floors  were  painted,  waxed  and  polished  ; 
the  stoves  were  adorned  with  old-fashioned  tiles, 
also  brought  over  from  the  other  house ;  the  cup- 
boards were  full  of  plate  and  silver ;  there  were 
old  Dresden  cups  and  figures,  Chinese  ornaments, 
tea-pots,  sugar-basins,  heavy  old  spoons.  Round 
stools  bound  with  brass,  and  inlaid  tables  stood  in 
pleasant  corners. 

In  Tatiana  Markovna's  sitting-room  stood  an  old- 
fashioned  carved  bureau  with  a  mirror,  urns,  lyres, 
and  genii.  But  she  had  hung  up  the  mirror,  because 
she  said  it  was  a  hindrance  to  writing  when  you 
stared  at  your  own  stupid  face.  The  room  also 
contained  a  round  table  where  she  lunched  and  drank 
her  tea  and  coffee,  and  a  rather  hard  leather-covered 
armchair  with  a  high  back.  Grandmother*  was  old- 
fashioned  ;  she  did  not  approve  of  lounging,  but  held 
herself  upright  and  was  simple  and  reserved  in  her 
manners. 

How  beautiful  Boris  thought  her  I  And  indeed 
she  was  beautiful. 

Tall,  neither  stout  nor  thin,  a  vivacious  old  lady  .  .  . 
not  indeed  an  old  lady,  but  a  woman  of  fifty,  with 
quick  black  eyes,  and  so  kind  and  gracious  a  smile 

*  Tatiana  Markovna  was  addressed  by  her  grand-nieces  and 
her  grand-nephew   as  Grandmother. 


22  THE  PRECIPICE 

that  even  when  she  was  angry,  and  the  storm-Hght 
flickered  in  her  eyes,  the  blue  sky  could  be  observed 
behind  the  clouds.  She  had  a  slight  moustache,  and, 
on  her  left  cheek,  near  the  chin,  a  birth-mark  with 
a  little  bunch  of  hairs,  details  which  gave  her  face 
a  remarkable  expression  of  kindness. 

She  cut  her  grey  hair  short,  and  went  about  in 
house,  yard,  garden  with  her  head  uncovered,  but 
on  feast  days,  or  when  guests  were  expected  she  put 
on  a  cap.  The  cap  could  not  be  kept  in  its  place, 
and  did  not  suit  her  at  all,  so  that  after  about  five 
minutes  she  would  with  apologies  remove  the  tiresome 
headdress. 

In  the  mornings  she  wore  a  wide  white  blouse 
with  a  girdle  and  big  pockets  ;  in  the  afternoon  she 
put  on  a  brown  dress,  and  on  feast  days  a  heavy 
rustling  silk  dress  that  gleamed  like  silver,  and  over 
it  a  valuable  shawl  which  only  Vassilissa,  her  house- 
keeper, was  allowed  to  take  out  of  the  press. 

"  Uncle  Ivan  Kusmich  brought  it  from  the  East," 
she  used  to  boast.  "  It  cost  three  hundred  gold 
roubles,  and  now  no  money  would  buy  it." 

At  her  girdle  hung  a  bunch  of  keys,  so  that  Grand- 
mother could  he  heard  from  afar  like  a  rattlesnake 
when  she  crossed  the  yard  or  the  garden.  At  the 
sound  the  coachmen  hid  their  pipes  in  their  boots, 
because  the  mistress  feared  nothing  so  much  as  fire, 
and  for  that  reason  counted  smoking  as  the  greatest 
of  crimes.  The  cooks  seized  the  knife,  the  spoon  or 
the  broom  ;  Kirusha,  who  had  been  joking  with 
Matrona,  hurried  to  the  door,  while  Matrona  hurried 
to  the  byre. 

If  the  approaching  clatter  gave  warning  that  the 
mistress  was  returning  to  the  house  Mashutka  quickly 
took  off  her  dirty  apron  and  wiped  her  hands  on  a 
towel  or  a  bit  of  rag,  as  the  case  might  be.  Spitting 
on  her  hands  she  smoothed  down  her  dry,  rebellious 
hair,  and  covered  the  round  table  with  the  finest  of 
clean  tablecloths.  Vassilissa,  silent,  serious,  of  the 
same  age  as  her  mistress,   buxom,   but  faded  with 


THE  PRECIPICE  23 

much  confinement  indoors,  would  bring  in  the  silver 
service  with  the  steaming  coffee. 

Mashutka  effaced  herself  as  far  as  possible  in  a  corner. 
The  mistress  insisted  on  cleanliness  in  her  servants, 
but  Mashutka  had  no  gift  for  keeping  herself  spotless. 
When  her  hands  were  clean  she  could  do  nothing, 
but  felt  as  if  everything  would  slip  through  her  fingers. 
If  she  was  told  to  do  her  hair  on  Sunday,  to  wash 
and  to  put  on  tidy  clothes,  she  felt  the  whole  day 
as  if  she  had  been  sewn  into  a  sack.  She  only  seemed 
to  be  happy  when,  smeared  and  wet  with  washing 
the  boards,  the  windows,  the  silver,  or  the  doors, 
she  had  become  almost  unrecognisable,  and  had, 
if  she  wanted  to  rub  her  ^nose  or  her  eyebrows,  to 
use  her  elbow. 

Vassilissa,  on  the  contrary,  respected  herself,  and 
was  the  only  tidy  woman  among  all  the  servants. 
She  had  been  in  the  service  of  her  mistress  since  her 
earliest  days  as  her  personal  maid,  had  never  been 
separated  from  her,  knew  every  detail  of  her  life,  and 
now  lived  with  her  as  housekeeper  and  confidential 
servant.  The  two  women  communicated  with  one 
another  in  monosyllables.  Tatiana  Markovna  hardly 
needed  to  give  instructions  to  Vassilissa,  who  knew 
herself  what  had  to  be  done.  If  something  unusual 
was  required,  her  mistress  did  not  give  orders,  but 
suggested  that  this  or  that  should  be  done. 

Vassilissa  was  the  only  one  of  her  subjects  whom 
Tatiana  Markovna  addressed  by  her  full  name. 
If  she  did  address  them  by  their  baptismal  names 
they  were  names  that  could  not  be  compressed  nor 
clipped,  as  for  example  Ferapont  or  Panteleimon. 
The  village  elder  she  did  indeed  address  as  Stepan 
Vassilich,  but  the  others  were  to  her  Matroshka, 
Mashutka,  Egorka  and  so  on.  The  unlucky  individual 
whom  she  addressed  with  his  Christian  name  and 
patronymic  knew  that  a  storm  was  impending.  "  Here, 
Egor  Prokhorich  !  where  were  you  all  day  yesterday  ?  " 
Or  "  Simeon  Vassilich,  you  smoked  a  pipe  yesterday 
in  the  hayrick.     Take  care  !  " 

She  would  get  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night  to 


24  THE  PRECIPICE 

convince  herself  that  a  spark  from  a  pipe  had  not 
set  fire  to  anything,  or  that  there  was  not  someone 
walking  about  the  yard  or  the  coachhouse  with  a 
lantern. 

Under  no  consideration  could  the  gulf  between  the 
"  people "  and  the  family  be  bridged.  She  was 
moderately  strict  and  moderately  considerate,  kindly, 
but  always  within  the  limits  of  her  ideas  of  government. 
If  Irene,  Matrona  or  another  of  the  maids  gave  birth 
to  a  child,  she  listened  to  the  report  of  the  event  with 
an  air  of  injured  dignity,  but  gave  Vassilissa  to  under- 
stand that  the  necessaries  should  be  provided  ;  and 
would  add,  "  Only  don't  let  me  see  the  good-for- 
nothing."  After  Matrona  or  Irene  had  recovered 
she  would  keep  out  of  her  mistress's  sight  for  a  month 
or  so  ;  then  it  was  as  if  nothing  had  happened,  and 
the  child  was  put  out  in  the  village. 

If  any  of  her  people  fell  sick,  Tatiana  got  up  in  the 
night,  sent  him  spirits  and  embrocation,  but  next 
day  she  would  send  him  either  to  the  infirmary  or 
oftener  to  the  "  wise  woman,"  but  she  did  not  send 
for  a  doctor.  But  if  one  of  her  own  relatives,  her 
"  grandchildren  "  showed  a  bad  tongue,  or  a  swollen 
face,'  Kirusha  or  Vlass  must  immediately  ride  post 
haste  to  the  town  for  the  doctor. 

The  "wise  woman  "  was  a  woman  in  the  suburbs 
who  treated  the  "  people "  with  simple  remedies, 
and  rapidly  relieved  them  of  their  maladies.  It  did, 
indeed,  happen  that  many  a  man  remained  crippled 
for  life  after  her  treatment.  One  lost  his  voice  and 
could  only  crow,  another  lost  an  eye,  or  a  piece  of 
his  jawbone,  but  the  pain  was  gone  and  he  went  back 
to  work.  That  seemed  satisfactory  to  the  patient 
as  well  as  the  proprietor  of  the  estate.  And  as  the 
"  wise  woman  "  only  concerned  herself  with  humble 
people,  with  serfs  and  the  poorer  classes,  the  medical 
profession  did  not  interfere  with  her. 

Tatiana  Markovna  fed  her  servants  decently  with 
cabbage  soup  and  groats,  on  feast-days  with  rye 
and  mutton  ;  at  Christmas  geese  and  pigs  were  roasted. 
She  allowed  nothing  out  of  the  common  on  the  servants' 


THE  PRECIPICE  25 

table  or  in  their  dress,  but  she  gave  the  surplus  from 
her  own  table  now  to  one  woman,  now  to  another. 

Vassilissa  drank  tea  immediately  after  her  mistress  ; 
after  her  came  the  maids  in  the  house,  and  last  old 
Yakob.  On  feast  days,  on  account  of  the  hardness 
of  their  work,  a  glass  of  brandy  was  handed  to  the 
coachman,  the  menservants  and  the  Starost, 

As  soon  as  the  tea  was  cleared  away  in  the  morning 
a  stout,  chubby-faced  woman  pushed  her  way  into  the 
room,  always  smiling.  She  was  maid  to  the  grand- 
children, Veroshka  and  Marfinka.  Close  at  her  heels 
the  twelve-year-old  assistant,  and  together  they 
brought  the  children  to  breakfast. 

Never  knowing  which  of  the  two  to  kiss  first,  Tatiana 
Markovna  would  begin  :  "  Well,  my  birdies,  how  are 
you  ?  Veroshka,  darling,  you  have  brushed  your 
hair  ?  " 

"  And    me.    Granny,    me,"   Marfinka    would    cry. 

''  Why  are  Marfinka's  eyes  red  ?  Has  she  been 
crying  ?  "  Tatiana  Markovna  inquired  anxiously  of 
the  maid.  "  The  sun  has  dazzled  her.  Are  her 
curtains  well  drawn,  you  careless  girl  ?     I  must  see." 

In  the  maid's  room  sat  three  or  four  young  girls 
who  sat  all  day  long  sewing,  or  making  bobbin  lace, 
without  once  stretching  their  limbs  all  day,  because 
the  mistress  did  not  like  to  see  idle  hands.  In  the 
ante-room  there  sat  idly  the  melancholy  Yakob, 
Egorka,  who  was  sixteen  and  always  laughing,  with 
two  or  three  lackeys,  Yakob  did  nothing  but  wait 
at  table,  where  he  idly  flicked  away  the  flies,  and  as  idly 
changed  the  plates.  He  was  almost  too  idle  to  speak, 
and  when  the  visitors  addressed  him  he  answered  in 
a  tone  indicating  excessive  boredom  or  a  guilty  con- 
science. Because  he  was  quiet,  never  serioush^  drunk, 
and  did  not  smoke,  his  master  had  made  him  butler  ; 
he  was  also  very  zealous  at  church. 


CHAPTER  III 

Boris  came  in  on  his  aunt  during  the  children's 
breakfast.  Tatiana  Markovna  clapped  her  hands 
and  all  but  jumped  from  her  chair ;  the  plates  were 
nearly  shaken  off  the  table. 

"  Borushka,  tiresome  boy  I  You  have  not  even 
written,  but  descend  like  a  thunderclap.  How  you 
frightened  me  !  " 

She  took  his  head  in  her  hands,  looked  for  a  full 
minute  into  his  face,  and  would  have  wept,  but  she 
glanced  away  at  his  mother's  portrait,  and  sighed. 

"  Well,  well  !  "  she  seemed  to  say,  but  in  fact  said 
nothing,  but  smiled  and  wiped  away  her  tears  with 
her  handkerchief.  "  Your  mother's  boy,"  she  cried, 
"  her  very  image  !  See  how  lovely  she  was,  look, 
Vassilissa  !     Do  you  remember  ?     Isn't  he  like  her  ?  " 

With  youthful  appetite  Boris  devoured  coffee,  tea, 
cakes  and  bread,  his  aunt  watching  all  the  while. 

"  Call  the  people,  tell  the  Starost  and  everybody 
that  the  Master  is  here,  the  real  Master,  the  owner. 
Welcome,  little  father,  welcome  home  !  "  she  said, 
with  an  ironic  air  of  humility,  laughing  and  mimicking 
the  pleasant  speech.  "  Forsake  us  not  with  your 
favour,  Tatiana  Markovna  insults  us,  ruins  us,  take 
us  over  into  your  charge.  .  .  .  Ha  !  Ha  !  Here  are 
the  keys,  the  accounts,  at  your  service,  demand  a 
reckoning  from  the  old  lady.  Ask  her  what  she  has 
done  with  the  estate  money,  why  the  peasants'  huts 
are  in  ruins.  See  how  the  Malinovka  peasants  beg 
in  the  streets  of  the  town.  Ha  !  Ha  !  Under  your 
guardian  and  uncle  in  the  new  estate,  I  believe,  the 
peasants  wear  polished  boots  and  red  shirts,  and  live 
in  two-storied  houses.  Well,  Sir,  why  this  silence  ? 
Why  do  you  not  ask  for  the  accounts  ?  Have  your 
breakfast,  and  then  I  will  show  you  everything  " 


THE  PRECIPICE  27 

After  breakfast  Tatiana  Markovna  took  her  sunshade, 
put  on  her  thick-so]ed  shoes,  covered  her  head  with  a 
light  hood,  and  went  to  show  Boris  the  garden. 

"  Now,  Sir,  keep  your  eyes  wide  open,  and  if  there 
is  anything  wrong,  don't  spare  your  Grandmother. 
You  will  see  I  have  just  planted  out  the  beds  in  front 
of  the  house.  Veroshka  and  Marfinka  play  here  under 
my  eyes,  in  the  sand.     One  cannot  trust  any  nurse." 

They  reached  the  yard. 

"  Kirusha,  Eromka,  Matroshka,  where  have  you  all 
hidden  yourselves  ?     One  of  you  come  here." 

Matroshka  appeared,  and  announced  that  Kirusha 
and  Eromka  had  gone  into  the  village  to  fetch  the 
peasants. 

"  Here  is  Matroshka.  Do  you  remember  her  ? 
What  are  you  staring  there  for,  fool.  Kiss  your 
Master's  hand." 

Matroshka  came  nearer.     "  I  dare  not,"  she  said. 

Boris  shyly  embraced  the  girl. 

"  You  have  built  a  new  wing  to  the  buildings, 
Grandmother,"  he  said. 

"  You  noticed  that.  Do  you  remember  the  old  one  ? 
It  was  quite  rotten,  had  holes  in  the  floors  as  broad 
as  my  hand,  and  the  dirt  and  the  soot  !  And  now 
look  !  " 

They  went  into  the  new  wing.  His  aunt  showed 
Boris  the  alterations  in  the  stables,  the  horses  and  the 
separate  space  for  fowls,  the  laundry  and  byres. 

"  Here  is  the  new  kitchen  which  I  built  detached 
so  that  the  kitchen  range  is  outside  the  house,  and  the 
servants  have  more  room.  Now  each  has  his  own 
corner.  Here  is  the  pantry,  there  the  new  ice-cellar. 
What  are  you  standing  there  for  ?  "  she  said,  turning  to 
Matrona.  "  Go  and  tell  Egorka  to  run  into  the  village 
and  say  to  the  Starost  that  we  are  going  over  there." 

In  the  garden  his  aunt  showed  him  every  tree  and 
every  bush,  led  him  through  the  alleys,  looked  down 
from  the  top  of  the  precipice  into  the  brushwood,  and 
went  with  him  into  the  village.  It  was  a  warm  day, 
and  the  winter  corn  waved  gently  in  the  pleasant 
breeze. 


28  THE  PRECIPICE 

"  Here  is  my  nephew,  Boris  Pavlovich,"  she  said 
to  the  Starost.  "  Are  you  getting  in  the  hay  while  the 
warm  weather  lasts  ?  We  are  sure  to  have  rain  before 
long  after  this  heat.  Here  is  the  Master,  the  real 
Master,  my  nephew,"  she  said,  turning  to  the  peasants. 
"  Have  you  seen  him  before,  Garashka  ?  Take  a  good 
look  at  him.  Is  that  your  calf  in  the  rye,  Iliusha  ?  " 
she  said  in  passing  to  a  peasant,  while  her  attention 
already  wandered  to  the  pond. 

"  There  they  are  again,  hanging  out  the  clothes 
on  the  trees,"  she  remarked  angrily  to  the  village 
elder.  "  I  have  given  orders  for  a  line  to  be  fixed. 
Tell  blind  Agasha  so.  It  is  she  that  likes  to  hang 
her  things  out  on  the  willows.  The  branches  will 
break.  .  .  ." 

"  We  haven't  a  line  long  enough,"  answered  the 
Starost  sleepily.  "  We  shall  have  to  buy  one  in  the 
town." 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  Vassilissa  ?  She  would  have 
let  me  know.  I  go  into  the  town  every  week,  and 
would  have  brought  a  line  long  ago." 

"  I  have  told  her,  but  she  forgets,  or  sa^^s  it  is  not 
worth  while  to  bother  the  Mistress  about  it." 

Tatiana  Markovna  made  a  knot  in  her  handkerchief. 
She  liked  it  to  be  said  that  nothing  could  be  done 
without  her ;  a  clothes-line,  for  instance,  could  be 
bought  by  anybody,  but  God  forbid  that  she  should 
trust  anybody  with  money.  Although  by  no  means 
avaricious,  she  was  sparing  with  money.  Before  she 
brought  herself  to  part  with  it  she  was  thoughtful, 
sometimes  angry,  but  the  money  once  spent,  she  forgot 
all  about  it  and  did  not  like  keeping  account  of  it. 

Besides  the  more  important  arrangements,  her 
life  was  full  of  small  matters  of  business.  The  maids 
had  to  be  put  to  cutting  out  and  sewing,  or  to  cooking 
and  cleaning.  She  arranged  so  that  everything  was 
carried  out  before  her  own  eyes.  She  herself  did  not 
touch  the  actual  work,  but  with  the  dignity  of  age 
she  stood  with  one  hand  on  her  hip  and  the  other 
pointing  out  exactly  where  and  how  everything  was  to 
be    done.      The    clattering    keys    opened    cupboards. 


THE  PRECIPICE  29 

chests,  strong  boxes,  which  contained  a  profusion  of 
household  hnen,  costly  lace  yellow  with  age,  diamonds, 
destined  for  the  dowry  of  her  nieces,  and  money.  The 
cupboards  where  tea,  sugar,  cofiee  and  other  provisions 
were  kept  were  in  Vassilissa's  charge. 

In  the  morning,  after  coffee,  when  she  had  given  her 
orders  for  the  farm,  Tatiana  Markovna  sat  down 
at  her  bureau  to  her  accounts,  then  sat  by  the  window 
and  looked  out  into  the  field,  watched  the  labourers, 
saw  what  was  going  on  in  the  yard,  and  sent  Yakob 
or  Vassilissa  when  there  was  anything  of  which  she 
disapproved. 

When  necessary  she  drove  into  the  town  to  the 
market  hall,  or  to  make  visits,  but  never  was  long 
away,  returning  always  in  time  for  the  midday  meal. 
She  herself  received  many  guests  ;  she  liked  to  be 
dispensing  hospitality  from  morning  to  night. 

When  in  winter  afternoons  she  sat  by  the  stove, 
she  was  silent  and  thoughtful,  and  liked  everything 
around  her  quiet.  Summer  afternoons  she  spent  in 
the  garden,  when  she  put  on  her  gardening  gloves 
and  took  a  spade,  a  rake,  or  a  watering  can,  by  way 
of  obtaining  a  little  exercise.  Then  she  spent  the 
evening  at  the  tea-table  in  the  company  of  Tiet 
Nikonich  Vatutin,  her  oldest  and  best  friend  and 
adviser. 

Tiet  Nikonich  was  a  gentleman  of  birth  and  breeding. 
He  owned  in  the  province  two  or  three  hundred  "  souls  " 
— he  did  not  exactly  know  how  many,  and  never 
attended  to  his  estate,  but  left  his  peasants  to  do  as 
they  liked,  and  to  pay  him  what  dues  they  pleased. 
Shyly,  and  without  counting  it,  he  took  the  money 
they  brought  him,  put  it  in  his  bureau,  and  signed  to 
them  to  go  where  they  pleased.  He  had  been  in  the 
army,  and  old  people  remembered  him  as  a  handsome 
young  officer,  a  modest,  frank  young  man.  In  his 
youth  he  often  visited  his  mother  on  the  esatate,  and 
spent  his  leave  with  her.  Eventually  he  took  his 
discharge,  and  then  built  himself  a  little  grey  house 
in  the  town  with  three  windows  on  to  the  street,  and 
there  established  himself. 


30  THE  PRECIPICE 

Although  he  had  only  received  a  moderate  education 
in  the  cadet  school,  he  liked  to  read,  occupying  himself 
chiefly  with  politics  and  natural  science.  In  his 
speech,  his  manners  and  his  gait  he  betrayed  a  gentle 
shyness,  never  obtruded  his  dignity,  but  was  ready 
to  show  it  if  necessity  arose.  However  intimate  he 
might  be  wdth  anyone,  he  always  maintained  a  certain 
courtes}^  and  reserve  in  word  and  gesture.  He  bowed 
to  the  Governor  or  a  friend  or  a  new  acquaintance 
with  the  same  old-fashioned  politeness,  drawing  back 
one  foot  as  he  did  so.  In  the  street  he  addressed 
ladies  with  uncovered  head,  was  the  first  to  pick 
up  a  handkerchief  or  bring  a  footstool.  If  there 
were  young  girls  in  a  house  he  visited  he  came  armed 
with  a  pound  of  bonbons,  a  bunch  of  flowers,  and 
tried  to  suit  his  conversation  to  their  age,  their  tastes 
and  their  occupations.  He  always  maintained  his 
delicate  politeness,  tinged  with  the  respectful  manner 
of  a  courtier  of  the  old  school.  When  ladies  were 
present  he  always  wore  his  frock-coat.  He  neither 
smoked,  nor  used  perfume,  nor  tried  to  make  himself 
look  younger,  but  was  always  spotless,  and  distinguished 
in  his  dress.  His  clothes  were  simple  but  dazzlingly 
neat.  His  nankeen  trousers  were  freshly  pressed,  and 
his  blue  frock-coat  looked  as  if  it  had  come  straight 
from  the  tailor.  In  spite  of  his  fifty  years,  he  had, 
with  his  perruque  and  his  shaven  chin,  the  air  of  a 
fresh,  rosy-cheeked  young  man.  With  all  his  narrow 
means  he  gave  the  impression  of  wealth  and  good 
breeding,  and  put  down  his  hundred  roubles  as  if  he 
had  thousands  to  throw  about. 

For  Tatiana  Markovna  he  showed  a  respectful 
friendship,  but  one  so  devoted  and  ardent  that  it  was 
evident  from  his  manner  that  he  loved  her  beyond 
all  others.  But  although  he  was  her  daily  guest 
he  gave  no  sign  of  intimacy  before  strangers. 

She  showed  great  friendship  for  him,  but  there 
was  more  vivacity  in  her  tone.  Those  who  remembered 
them  when  they  were  young,  said  she  had  been  a 
very  beautiful  girl.  When  she  had  thrown  on  her 
shawl    and  sat  looking  meditatively  before  her,  she 


THE  PRECIPICE  31 

resembled  a  family  portrait  in  the  gallery  of  the  old 
house.  Occasionally  there  came  over  her  moods 
which  betrayed  pride  and  a  desire  for  domination  ; 
when  this  happened  her  face  wore  an  earnest,  dreamy 
expression,  as  if  she  were  leading  another  life  far  from 
the  small  details  of  her  actual  existence. 

Hardly  a  day  went  by  that  Tiet  Nikonich  did  not 
bring  some  present  for  Grandmother  or  the  little 
girls,  a  basket  of  strawberries,  oranges,  peaches, 
always  the  earliest  on  the  market. 

At  one  time  it  had  been  rumoured  in  the  town — 
a  rumour  long  since  stilled — that  Tiet  Nikonich  had 
loved  Tatiana  Markovna  and  Tatiana  Markovna  him, 
but  that  her  parents  had  chosen  another  husband 
for  her.  She  refused  to  assent,  and  remained  unmarried. 
What  truth  there  was  in  this,  none  knew  but  herself. 
But  every  day  he  came  to  her,  either  at  midday  or  in 
the  evening. 

He  liked  to  talk  over  with  her  what  was  going  on 
in  the  world,  who  was  at  war,  and  with  whom,  and 
why.  He  knew  why  bread  was  cheap  in  Russia  ; 
the  names  of  all  the  noble  houses  ;  he  knew  by  heart 
the  names  of  all  the  ministers  and  the  men  in  high 
commands  and  their  past  history  ;  he  could  tell  why 
one  sea  lay  at  a  higher  tide  than  another  ;  he  was 
the  first  to  know  what  the  English  or  the  French  had 
invented,  and  whether  the  inventions  were  useful  or 
not.  If  there  was  any  business  to  be  arranged  in 
the  law  courts,  Tiet  Nikonich  arranged  it,  and  some- 
times concealed  the  sums  that  he  spent  in  so  doing. 
If  he  was  found  out,  she  scolded  him  ;  he  could  not 
conceal  his  confusion,  begged  her  pardon,  kissed  her 
hand,  and  took  his  leave. 

Tatiana  Markovna  was  always  at  loggerheads  with 
the  bureaucracy  of  the  neighbourhood.  If  soldiers 
were  to  be  billeted  on  her,  the  roads  to  be  improved, 
or  the  taxes  collected,  she  complained  of  outrage, 
argued  and  refused  to  pay.  She  would  hear  nothing  k 
about  the  public  interest.  In  her  opinion  everyone 
had  his  own  business  to  mind.  She  strongly  objected 
to  the  police,  and  especially  to  the  Superintendent, 


32  THE  PRECIPICE 

who  was  in  her  view  a  robber.  More  than  once  Tiet 
Nikonich  tried,  without  success,  to  reconcile  her  to 
the  doctrine  of  the  pubHc  interest ;  he  had  to  be 
content  if  she  was  reconciled  with  the  ofhcials  and  the 
police. 

This  was  the  patriarchal,  peaceful  atmosphere  which 
young  Raisky  absorbed.  Grandmother  and  the  little 
girls  were  mother  and  sisters  to  him,  and  Tiet  Nikonich 
the  ideal  uncle. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Boris's  aunt  had  only  just  begun  to  give  him  an  idea 
of  her  methods  of  conducting  the  estate  when  he  began 
to  yawn. 

"  Listen,  these  are  all  your  affairs  ;  I  am  only  your 
Starost,"  she  said.  But  he  could  not  suppress  a 
yawn,  watched  the  birds,  the  dragon-flies,  picked  the 
cornflowers,  looked  curiously  at  the  peasants,  and 
gazed  up  at  the  sky  over-arching  the  wide  horizon. 
Then  his  aunt  began  to  talk  to  one  of  the  peasants, 
and  he  hurried  off  to  the  garden,  ran  down  to  the  edge 
of  the  precipice,  and  made  his  way  through  the  under- 
growth to  the  steep  bank  of  the  Volga. 

"  He  is  still  too  young,  only  a  child,  does  not 
understand  serious  matters,"  thought  his  aunt,  as  she 
followed  him  with  her  eyes.  "  What  will  become  of 
Jiim  ?  " 

The  Volga  glided  quietly  between  its  overgrown 
banks,  with  here  and  there  a  sandbank  or  an  island 
thickly  covered  with  bushes.  In  the  distance  lay  the 
sandhills  and  the  darkening  forest.  Here  and  there 
shimmered  a  sail ;  gulls,  with  an  even  balancing  of 
their  wings,  skimmed  the  water,  and  then  rose  with  a 
more  strenuous  movement,  while  over  the  gardens, 
high  in  the  air,  the  goshawks  hovered. 

Boris  stood  still  for  a  long  time,  recalling  his  child- 
hood. He  remembered  that  he  had  sat  on  this  spot 
with   his   mother,   looking   thoughtfully   out   at   this 


THE  PRECIPICE  33 

.same  landscape.  Then  he  went  slowly  back  to  the 
house,  and  climbed  the  precipice,  with  the  picture 
of  her  vividly  before  his  mind's  eye. 

In  Malinovka  and  the  neighbourhood  there  were 
tragic  memories  connected  with  this  precipice.  In  the 
lifetime  of  Boris's  parents  a  man  wild  with  jealousy, 
a  tailor  from  the  town,  had  killed  his  wife  and  her 
lover  there  in  the  midst  of  the  thicket,  and  had  then 
cut  his  own  throat.  The  suicide  had  been  buried 
on  the  spot  where  he  had  committed  the  crime.  Among 
the  common  people,  as  always  happens  in  cases  of 
this  sort,  there  were  rumours  that  the  murderer,  all 
dressed  in  white,  wandered  about  the  wood,  climbed 
the  precipice,  and  looked  down  on  town  and  village 
before  he  vanished  into  air.  And  for  superstitious 
reasons  this  part  of  the  grounds  had  been  left  neglected. 
None  of  the  servants  went  down  the  precipice,  and 
the  peasants  from  the  outskirts  of  the  town  and  from 
Malinovka  made  a  detour  to  avoid  it.  The  fence 
that  divided  the  Raiskys'  park  from  the  woods  had 
long  since  fallen  into  disrepair.  Pines  and  bushes  of 
hawthorn  and  dwarf-cherry  had  woven  themselves 
together  into  a  dense  growth  in  the  midst  of  which 
was  concealed  a  neglected  arbour, 

Boris  vividly  imagined  the  scene,  how  the  jealous 
husband,  trembling  with  agitation,  stole  through  the 
bushes,  threw  himself  on  his  rival,  and  struck  him 
with  his  knife  ;  how  the  woman  flung  herself  at  his 
feet  and  begged  his  forgiveness.  But  he,  with  the 
foam  of  madness  on  his  lips,  struck  her  again  and 
again,  and  then,  in  the  presence  of  the  two  corpses, 
cut  his  own  throat.  Boris  shuddered.  Agitated  and 
gloomy  he  turned  from  the  accursed  spot.  Yet  he 
was  attracted  by  the  mysterious  darkness  of  the  tangled 
wood  to  the  precipice,  to  the  lovely  view  over  the 
Volga   and  its   banks. 

He  closed  his  eyes,  abandoning  himself  to  the 
contemplation  of  the  picture ;  his  thoughts  swept 
over  him  like  the  waves  of  the  Volga  ;  the  lovely 
landscape  was  ever  before  his  eyes,  mirrored  in  his 
consciousness. 


34  THE  PRECIPICE 

Veroshka  and  Marfinka  provided  him  with  amuse- 
ment. 

Veroshka  was  a  httle  girl  of  six,  with  dark,  brilliant 
eyes  and  dark  complexion,  who  was  beginning  to 
be  serious  and  to  be  ashamed  of  her  baby  ways.  She 
would  hop,  skip  and  jump,  then  stand  still,  look 
shyly  round  and  walk  sedately  along  ;  then  she  would 
dart  on  again  like  a  bird,  pick  a  handful  of  currants 
and  stuff  them  into  her  mouth.  If  Boris  patted 
her  hair,  she  smoothed  it  rapidly  ;  if  he  gave  her  a 
kiss,  she  wiped  it  away.  She  was  self-willed  too. 
When  she  was  sent  on  an  errand  she  would  shake 
her  head,  then  run  off  to  do  it.  She  never  asked 
Boris  to  draw  for  her,  but  if  Marfinka  asked  him  she 
watched  silently  and  more  intently  than  her  sister. 
She  did  not,  like  Marfinka,  beg  either  drawings  or 
pencils. 

Marfinka,  a  rosy  little  girl  of  four,  was  often  self- 
willed,  and  often  cried,  but  before  the  tears  were  dry 
she  was  laughing  and  shouting  again.  Veroshka 
rarely  wept,  and  then  quietly.  She  soon  recovered, 
but  she  did  not  like  to  be  told  to  beg  pardon. 

Boris's  aunt  wondered,  as  she  saw  him  gay  and 
serious  by  turns,  what  occupied  his  mind  ;  she  wondered 
what  he  did  all  day  long.  In  answer  Boris  showed  his 
sketching  folio  ;  then  he  would  play  her  quadrilles, 
mazurkas,  excerpts  from  opera,  and  finally  his  own 
improvisations. 

Tatiana  Markovna's  astonishment  remained.  "  Just 
like  your  mother,"  she  said.  "  She  was  just  as  restless, 
always  sighing  as  if  she  expected  something  to  happen. 
Then  she  would  begin  to  play  and  was  gay  again. 
See,  Vassilissa,  he  has  sketched  you  and  me,  like  life  ! 
When  Tiet  Nikonich  comes,  hide  yourself  and  make  a 
sketch  of  him,  and  next  day  we  will  send  it  him,  and 
it  can  hang  on  the  study  wall.  What  a  boy  you  are  ! 
And  you  play  as  well  as  the  French  emigre  who  used 
to  live  with  your  Aunt.  Only  it  is  impossible  to 
talk  to  you  about  the  farm  ;  you  are  still  too  young." 

She  always  wished  to  go  through  the  accounts 
with  him.     "  The  accounts  for  Veroshka  and  Marfinka 


THE  PRECIPICE  35 

are  separate,  you  see,"  she  said.  "  You  need  not 
think  that  a  penny  of  your  money  goes  to  them. 
See.  .  .  ." 

But  he  never  Hstened.  He  merely  watched  how 
his  aunt  wrote,  how  she  looked  at  him  over  her  spec- 
tacles, observed  the  wrinkles  in  her  face,  herbirthmark, 
her  eyes,  her  smile,  and  then  burst  out  laughing, 
and,  throwing  himself  into  her  arms,  kissed  her,  and 
begged  to  go  and  look  at  the  old  house.  She  could 
refuse  him  nothing  ;  so  she  unwillingly  gave  him  the 
keys  and  he  went  to  look  at  the  rooms  where  he  was 
born  and  had  spent  his  childhood,  of  which  he  retained 
only  a  confused  memory. 

"  I  am  going  with  Cousin  Boris,"  said  Marfinka. 

"  Where,  my  darling  ?  It  is  uncanny  over  there," 
said  Tatiana  Markovna. 

Marfinka  was  frightened.  Veroshka  said  nothing, 
but  when  Boris  reached  the  old  house,  she  was  already 
standing  at  the  door,  with  her  hand  on  the  latch,  as  if 
she  feared  she  might  be  driven  away. 

Boris  shuddered  as  he  entered  the  ante-room,  and 
cast  an  anxious  glance  into  the  neighbouring  hall, 
supported  by  pillars.     Veroshka  had  run  on  in  front. 

"  Where  are  you  off  to,  Veroshka  ?  " 

She  stood  still  a  moment,  her  hand  on  the  latch  of 
the  nearest  door,  and  he  had  only  just  time  to  follow 
her  before  she  vanished.  Dark,  smoke-stained  recep- 
tion rooms  adjoined  the  hall.  In  one  were  two  ghostly 
figures  of  shrouded  statues  and  shrouded  candelabra  ; 
by  the  walls  were  ranged  dark  stained  oak  pieces  of 
furniture  with  brass  decorations  and  inlaid  work  ; 
there  were  huge  Chinese  vases,  a  clock  representing 
Bacchus  with  a  barrel,  and  great  oval  mirrors  in 
elaborate  gilded  frames.  In  the  bedroom  stood  an 
enormous  bed,  like  a  magnificent  bier,  with  a  brocade 
cover.  Boris  could  not  imagine  how  any  human 
being  could  sleep  in  such  a  catafalque.  Under  the 
baldachin  hovered  a  gilded  Cupid,  spotted  and  faded, 
with  his  arrow  aimed  at  the  bed.  In  the  corners  stood 
carved  cupboards,  damascened  with  ebony  and  mother- 
of-pearl. 


36  THE  PRECIPICE 

Veroshka  opened  a  press  and  put  her  little  face 
inside,  and  a  musty,  dusty  smell  came  from  the  shelves, 
laden  with  old-fashioned  caftans  and  embroidered 
uniforms  with  big  buttons. 

Raisky  shivered.  "  Granny  was  right  !  "  he  laughed. 
"  It  is  uncanny  here." 

"  But  everj'thing  here  is  so  beautiful  !  "  cried  Vera, 
"  the  great  pictures  and  the  books  !  " 

"  Pictures  ?  Books  ?  Where  ?  I  don't  remember. 
Bravo,  little  Veroshka." 

He  kissed  her.  She  wiped  her  lips,  and  ran  on  in 
front  to  show  him  the  books.  He  found  some  two 
thousand  volumes,  and  was  soon  absorbed  in  reading 
the  titles  ;  many  of  the  books  were  still  uncut. 

From  this  time  he  was  not  often  to  be  seen  in  the 
wooden  house.  He  did  not  even  go  down  to  the 
Volga,  but  devoured  one  volume  after  another.  Then 
he  wrote  verses,  read  them  aloud,  and  intoxicated 
himself  with  the  sound  of  them  ;  then  gave  all  his 
time  to  drawing.  He  expected  something,  he  knew 
not  what,  from  the  future.  He  was  filled  with  passion, 
with  the  foretaste  of  pleasure  ;  there  rose  before  him 
a  world  of  wonderful  music,  marvellous  pictures,  and 
the  murmur  of  enchanting  life. 

"I  have  been  wanting  to  ask  you,"  said  Tatiana 
Markovna,  "  why  you  have  entered  yourself  for  school 
again." 
■^^  Not  the  school,  the  University  !  " 

"  It's  the  same  thing.  You  studied  at  your 
guardian's,  and  at  the  High  School,  you  can  draw, 
play  the  piano.  What  more  do  you  want  to  learn  ? 
The  students  will  only  teach  you  to  smoke  a  pipe, 
and  in  the  end — which  God  forbid — to  drink  wine. 
You  should  go  into  the  Guards." 

"  Uncle  says  my  means  are  not  sufficient.  ..." 

"  Not  sufficient  !  What  next  ?  "  She  pointed  to 
the  fields  and  the  village.  She  counted  out  his  resources 
in  hundreds  and  thousands  of  roubles.  She  had  had 
no  experience  of  army  circles,  had  never  lived  in  the 
capital,  and  did  not  know  how  much  money  was 
needed. 


THE  PRECIPICE  37 

"  Your  means  insufficient  !  Why,  I  can  send 
provision  alone  for  a  whole  regiment.  No  means  ! 
What  does  your  Uncle  do  with  the  revenues  ?  " 

"  I  intend  to  be  an  artist,  Granny." 

"  What  !     An  artist  !  " 

"  When  I  leave  the  University,  I  intend  to  enter 
the  Academy." 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you,  Borushka  ?  Make 
the  sign  of  the  cross  !    Do  you  want  to  be  a  teacher  !  " 

"  All  artists  are  not  teachers.  Among  artists  there 
are  great  geniuses,  who  are  famous  and  receive  large 
sums  for  pictures  or  muisc." 

"  And  do  you  intend  to  sell  your  pictures  for  money, 
or  to  play  the  piano  for  money  in  the  evenings  ?  What 
a  disgrace  I  " 

"  No,  Grandmother,  an  artist.  ..." 

"  No,  Borushka,  don't  anger  your  Grandmother  ; 
let  her  have  the  joy  of  seeing  you  in  your  Guard's 
uniform." 

"  Uncle  says  I  ought  to  go  into  the  Civil  Service." 

"  A  clerk  !  Good  heavens  !  To  stoop  over  a  desk 
all  day,  bathed  in  ink,  run  in  and  out  of  the  courts  ! 
Who  would  marry  you  then  ?  No,  no  ;  come  home 
to  me  as  an  ofhcer,  and  marry  a  rich  woman  !  " 

Although  Boris  shared  neither  his  uncle's  nor  his 
aunt's  views,  yet  for  a  moment  there  shimmered 
before  his  eyes  a  vision  of  his  own  figure  in  a  hussar's 
or  a  court  uniform.  He  saw  how  well  he  sat  his 
horse,  how  well  he  danced.  That  day  he  made  a 
sketch  of  himself,  negligently  seated  in  the  saddle, 
with  a  cloak  over  his  shoulders. 


CHAPTER    V 

In  Moscow  Raisky  spent  his  time  partly  in  the  Univer- 
sity, partly  in  the  Kremlin  gardens.  In  the  evening 
he  sat  in  the  club  with  his  friends,  hot-headed,  good- 
hearted  individuals.  Every  one  of  them  made  a 
great  to-do,  and  confidently  expected  a  great  future. 

At  the  University,  as  at  school,  Raisky  paid  little 
attention  to  the  rules  of  grammar,  but  observed  intently 
the  professor  and  the  students.  But  as  soon  as  the 
lecture  touched  actual  life  and  brought  living  men, 
Romans,  Germans  or  Russians  on  the  scene,  whether 
in  history  or  literature,  he  involuntarily  gave  the 
lecturer  his  attention,  and  the  personages  and  their 
doings  became  real  to  him. 

In  his  second  year  he  made  friends  with  a  poor 
student  named  Koslov,  the  son  of  a  deacon,  who  had 
been  sent  first  of  all  to  a  seminary,  but  had  taught 
himself  Latin  and  Greek  at  home,  and  thus  gained 
admission  to  the  Gymnasium.  He  zealously  studied 
the  life  of  antiquity,  but  understood  nothing  of  the 
life  going  on  around  him.  Raisky  felt  himself  drawn 
to  this  young  man,  at  first  because  of  his  loneliness, 
his  reserve,  simplicity  and  kindness  ;  later  he  discovered 
in  him  passion,  the  sacred  fire,  profundity  of  com- 
prehension and  austerity  of  thought  and  delicacy  of 
perception — in  all  that  pertained  to  antiquity.  Koslov 
on  his  side  was  devoted  to  Raisky,  whose  vivacious 
temperament  could  not  be  permanently  bound  by 
anything.  The  outcome  was  the  great  gift  of  ah 
intimate  friendship. 

In  summer  Raisky  liked  to  explore  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Moscow.  He  explored  old  convents,  examined 
their  dark  recesses,  the  blackened  pictures  of  the 
saints  and  martyrs  ;  his  imagination  interpreted  old 
Russia  for  him  better  than  the  lectures  of  his  professors. 


THE  PRECIPICE  39 

The  tsars,  monks,  warriors  and  statesmen  of  the  past 
filed  before  him  as  they  lived  and  moved.  Moscow 
seemed  to  him  to  be  a  miniature  tsardom.  Here 
was  conflict,  here  the  death  punishment  was  carried 
out ;  he  saw  Tatars,  Cossacks  of  the  Don.  The  varied 
life  attracted  him. 

In  spite  of  obstacles  he  passed  from  one  course 
to  another  at  the  University.  He  was  helped  by  the 
reputation  for  talent  he  had  won  by  certain  poems 
and  essays,  the  subjects  of  which  were  drawn  from 
Russian  history. 

"  Which  service  do  you  mean  to  enter  ?  "  the 
Dean  asked  him  one  day.  "  In  a  week's  time  you 
will  be  leaving  the  University.  What  are  you  going  to 
do?  " 

Raisky  was  silent. 

"  What  profession  have  you  selected  ?  " 

Raisky  almost  answered  that  he  meant  to  be  an 
artist,  but  he  remembered  in  time  the  reception  that 
this  proposition  had  received  from  his  guardian  and 
his  aunt.  "  I  shall  v/rite  verses,"  he  answered  in  a 
low  tone. 

"  But  that  is  not  a  profession.  You  may  write 
verses  and  yet.  ..." 

"  Stories  too." 

"  Naturally,  you  can  write  stories  as  well.  You 
have  talent  and  means  to  develop  it.  But  what 
profession — profession,  I  asked." 

"  For  the  moment  I  shall  enter  the  Guards,  later 
on  the  Civil  Service — I  mean  to  be  a  barrister,  a 
governor.  .  .  ." 

The  Dean  smiled.  "  You  begin  by  being  an  ensign, 
that  is  comprehensible.  You  and  Leonid  Koslov 
are  exceptions  ;  every  other  man  has  made  his  decision." 

When  Koslov  was  asked  his  intentions  he  replied 
that  he  would  like  to  be  a  schoolmaster  somewhere  in 
the  interior,  and  from  this  intention  he  refused  to  be 
turned  aside. 

Raisky  moved  among  the  golden  youth  of  St. 
Petersburg  society,  first  as  young  officer,  then  as 
bureaucrat,   fulfilled   his   duties   in   devotion   to   the 


40  THE  PRECIPICE 

beauty  of  many  an  Armide,  suffering  to  some  degree, 
and  gaining  some  experience  in  the  process.  After 
a  time  his  dreams  and  his  artistic  consciousness 
revived.  He  seemed  to  see  the  Volga  flowing  between 
its  steep  banks,  the  shady  garden,  and  the  wooded 
precipice.  He  abandoned  the  Civil  Service  in  its 
turn  to  enter  the  Academy  of  Arts.  His  education 
would  never  be  finished,  but  he  was  determined  to 
be  a  creative  artist.  His  aunt  scolded  him  by  letter 
for  having  left  the  Guards ;  his  guardian  advised 
him  to  seek  a  position  in  the  Senate,  and  sent  him 
letters  of  recommendation. 

But  Raisky  did  not  enter  the  Senate,  but  indolently 
pursued  his  artistic  studies,  read  a  great  deal,  wrote 
poems  and  prose,  danced,  went  into  society  and  to 
the  theatre,  indulged  in  wild  dissipation,  and  at  the 
same  time  did  some  musical  composition,  and  drew 
a  portrait  of  a  lady.  He  would  spend  one  week  in 
dissipation  and  the  next  in  diligent  study  at  the 
Academy.  Life  knocked  at  the  door  and  tore 
him  from  his  artist's  dreams  to  a  dissolute  existence 
of  alternating  pleasure  and  boredom. 

The  universal  summer  exodus  from  the  capital 
had  driven  him  abroad.  But  one  day  when  he  came 
home  he  found  two  letters  awaiting  him,  one  from 
Tatiana  Markovna,  the  other  from  his  comrade  at 
the  Universitj^  Leonid  Koslov,  who  had  been  installed 
in  Raisky 's  native  place  as  a  master  in  the  Gymnasium. 

Durmg  all  these  years  his  aunt  had  often  written 
to  him,  and  sent  him  statements  of  accounts.  His 
answers  were  short  but  affectionate  ;  the  accounts 
he  tore  up  without  having  even  looked  at  them. 

"Is  it  not  a  sin,"  she  wrote,  "  to  forget  an  old 
woman  like  me,  when  I  am  all  the  family  you  have  ? 
But  in  these  days  it  seems  that  old  people  have,  in 
the  judgment  of  youth,  become  superfluous.  But 
I  have  not  even  leisure  to  die ;  I  have  two  grown-up 
nieces,  and  until  their  future  is  settled  to  my  satis- 
faction, I  shall  pray  God  to  spare  my  life — and  then 
His  will  be  done.  I  do  not  complain  that  you  forget 
me.     But  if  I  were  not  here  my  little  girls,  your  sisters. 


THE  PRECIPICE  41 

would  be  alone.  You  are  their  next  of  kin  and  their 
natural  protector.  Think,  too,  of  the  estate.  I  am 
old,  and  can  no  longer  be  your  bailiff.  To  whom  do 
you  intend  to  entrust  the  estate  ?  The  place  will  be 
ruined  and  the  estate  dissipated.  It  breaks  my 
heart  to  think  that  your  family  silver,  bronzes,  pictures, 
diamonds,  lace,  china  and  glass  will  come  into  the 
hands  of  the  servants,  or  the  Jews,  or  the  usurers. 
So  long  as  your  Grandmother  lives,  you  may  be 
sure  that  not  a  thread  goes  astray,  but  after  that  I 
can  give  no  guarantee.  And  my  two  nieces,  what 
is  to  become  of  them  ?  Vera  is  a  good,  sensible,  but 
retiring  girl,  and  does  not  concern  herself  with  domestic 
matters  at  all.  Marfinka  will  be  a  splendid  manager, 
but  she  is  still  young  ;  although  she  ought  to  have 
been  married  before  now,  she  is  still  such  a  child 
in  her  ideas,  thank  God  1  She  will  mature  with 
experience,  and  meantime  I  shelter  her.  She  appre- 
ciates this  and  does  nothing  against  her  Grandmother's 
will,  for  which  may  God  reward  her.  In  the  house 
she  is  a  great  help,  but  I  do  not  let  her  do  anything 
on  the  estate  ;  that  is  no  work  for  a  young  girl. 

"  Do  not  defer  your  coming,  but  gladden  your 
Grandmother's  heart.  She  is  devoted  to  you,  not 
merely  because  of  the  relationship,  but  from  her  heart. 
You  were  conscious  of  the  sympathy  between  us 
when  you  were  a  child.  I  don't  know  what  you  are 
in  manhood,  but  you  were  then  a  good  nephew. 
Come,  if  only  to  see  your  sisters,  and  perhaps  happiness 
will  reward  your  coming.  If  God  grants  me  the  joy 
of  seeing  you  married  and  laying  the  estate  in  your 
hands  I  shall  die  happy.  Marry,  Borushka  ;  you 
are  long  since  of  an  age  to  do  so.  Then  my  little 
girls  will  still  have  a  home.  So  long  as  you  remain 
unmarried  they  cannot  live  in  your  house.  Marry, 
please  your  Grandmother,  and  God  will  not  forsake 
you.  I  wait  your  coming ;  let  me  know  when  to 
expect  you. 

"  Tiet  Nikonich  desires  to  be  remembered  to  you. 
He  has  aged,  but  is  still  hale  and  hearty,  he  has  the 
same  smile,  still  talks  well   and  has  such  pleasant 


42  THE    PRECIPICE 

manners  that  none  of  the  young  dandies  can  hold 
a  candle  to  him.  Bring  him,  please,  a  vest  and  hose 
of  Samian  leather  ;  it  is  worn  now,  I  hear,  as  a  specific 
against  rheumatism.  It  will  be  a  surprise  for  him. 
I  enclose  the  account  for  the  last  two  years.  Accept 
my  blessing." 


CHAPTER  VI 

In  a  kihitka  covered  with  bast,  drawn  by  three  lean 
and  sleepy  nags,  Raisky  drove  slowly  to  his  estate. 
It  was  not  without  agitation  that  he  saw  the  smoke 
curling  up  from  the  chimneys  of  his  own  roof,  the 
fresh,  delicate  green  of  the  birches  and  the  limes 
which  overshadowed  this  place  of  refuge,  the  gables 
of  the  old  house  and  the  pale  line  of  the  Volga  now 
gleaming  between  the  trees  and  now  hidden  from 
view.  He  approached  nearer  and  nearer ;  now  he 
could  see  the  shimmer  of  the  flowers  in  the  garden, 
the  avenues  of  lime  and  acacia  became  visible,  the 
old  elm  emerged,  and  there,  more  to  the  left,  lay  the 
orchard.  There  were  dogs  in  the  yard,  cats  sunning 
themselves,  on  the  roof  of  the  new  house  flocked  the 
pigeon  and  the  swallows  flitted  around  the  eaves.  Behind 
the  house,  on  the  side  towards  the  village,  linen  lay 
out  to  bleach.  One  woman  was  rolling  a  cask,  the 
coachman  was  chopping  wood,  a  peasant  got  into 
the  telega  and  gathered  up  the  reins — Boris  saw  only 
unfamiliar  faces.  But  Yakob  was  there  and  looked 
sleepily  round.     One  familiar  face,  but  how  aged  ! 

Raisky  observed  the  scene  intently.  He  alighted 
from  the  kihitka,  and  walked  along  the  fence  which 
divided  house,  yard,  garden  and  park  from  the  load, 
feasting  his  eyes  on  the  well-remembered  prospect, 
when  suddenly  his  eye  was  caught  by  an  unexpected 
apparition. 

On  the  verandah,  which  led  down  toj.the  garden 
and  was  decorated  by  lemon  and  pomegranate  trees 
in  tubs,  and  with  cactus  and  aloe  and  flowering  plants, 


THE    PRECIPICE  43 

stood  a  young  girl  of  about  twenty,  scattering  millet 
from  two  plates  held  by  a  barefooted  child  of  twelve. 
At  her  feet  were  assembled  hens,  turkeys,  ducks, 
pigeons,  sparrows  and  daws.  She  called  to  the  birds 
to  come  to  breakfast,  and  cocks,  hens  and  pigeons 
fell  to,  looking  round  every  moment  as  if  they  feared 
treason,  and  then  again  falling  to.  As  the  morning 
sun  shed  a  fierce  light  on  the  busy  group  of  birds  and  on 
the  young  girl  herself,  Raisky  saw  her  large,  dark 
grey  eyes,  her  round,  healthy  cheeks,  her  narrow 
white  teeth,  her  long  light-brown  tresses  wound  twice 
round  her  head,  and  the  strong  young  breasts  rising 
and  sinking  underneath  her  white  blouse.  Her  white, 
slightly  tanned  neck  was  innocent  of  collar  or  scarf. 
A  hasty  movement  loosened  one  plait  of  hair  over 
her  head  and  back,  but  she  took  no  notice,  but  con- 
tinued to  scatter  the  corn,  taking  care  that  all  received 
their  share  and  that  sparrows  and  daws  did  not  obtrude 
too  much,  and  looking  as  fresh  and  happy  as  the 
morning  itself. 

"  Didn't  you  see  the  goose  ?  "  she  asked  the  little 
girl  in  a  loud  clear  voice. 

"  No,"  answered  the  child,  "  it  is  the  cat's  fault. 
Afimua  says  it  will  die." 

"  I  shall  look  after  it  myself.     Afimua  has  no  pity." 

Motionless,  Raisky  watched  the  scene  without 
his  presence  being  suspected.  This  must  be  his 
cousin,  and  how  charming  !  But  which  one,  Veroshka 
or  Marfinka  ?  Without  waiting  for  the  kihitka  to  turn 
in  through  the  gate,  he  ran  forward,  and  stood  before 
the  young  girl. 

"  Cousin,"  he  cried,  extending  his  arms. 

In  a  moment  both  girls  had  vanished  as  if  by  magic, 
the  sparrows  were  a  vay  on  the  roof,  and  the  pigeons 
in  flight.  The  servants  in  the  yard  stopped  their 
work.  Raisky  looked  in  amazement  on  the  emptiness 
and  at  the  corn  scattered  at  his  feet. 

Then  he  heard  in  the  house  bustle,  murmurs,  move- 
ment, the  clatter  of  keys,  and  his  aunt's  voice,  "  Where 
is  he  ?  "  Her  face  lighted  up  when  she  saw  Raisky 
and  she  opened  her  arms,  to  press  him  to  her  breast. 


44  THE    PRECIPICE 

She  had  aged,  but  in  so  even,  so  healthy  a  fashion, 
that  there  were  no  unwholesome  patches,  no  deep 
hanging  pockets  about  the  eyes  and  mouth,  no 
sadness  or  gloom  in  her  eyes.  Life  had  not  conquered 
her  ;  she  conquered  life,  and  only  slowly  laid  down 
her  weapons  in  the  combat.  Her  voice  was  not  so 
clear  as  of  old,  and  she  leaned  on  a  stick,  but  she 
made  no  complaint.  She  still  wore  no  cap  on  her 
short  hair.  Health  and  kindliness  shone  from  her 
eyes,  and  not  only  from  her  eyes,  from  her  whole  figure. 

"  Borushka,  my  friend  !  "  Three  times  she 
embraced  him.  Tears  stood  in  her  eyes.  In  her 
embrace,  her  voice,  in  the  sudden  grip  of  joy,  there 
was  tenderness,  affection,  and  ardour. 

He  felt  that  he  was  almost  a  criminal,  that  he  had 
been  playing  with  his  emotions  and  seeking  forbidden 
fruit,  wandering  homelessly  in  the  world,  while  Nature 
himself  had  been  preparing  for  him  a  nest  where 
sympathy  and  happiness  awaited  him. 

"  Marfinka,  where  are  you,  come  here,"  cried  her 
grandmother.  "  She  was  so  terrified  when  she 
saw  you,  and  terrified  me  too.  Let  me  look  at  you, 
Borushka." 

She  led  him  to  the  light  and  looked  at  him  long 
and  earnestly. 

"  How  ill  you  look,"  she  said.  "  But  no,  you  are 
sunburnt.  The  moustache  suits  you,  why  do  you 
grow  a  beard  ?  Shave  it  off,  Borushka,  I  can't  endure 
it.  Ah  !  grey  hairs  here  and  there  already.  You 
are  beginning  to  age  too  soon." 

"  It's  not  with  age.  Granny." 

"  Why  then  ?     Are  you  ingood  health  ?  " 

"  I'm  well  enough.  Let  us  talk  of  something  else. 
You,  thank  God,  are  always  the  s-'me." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  You  don't  alter  a  bit,  are  still  as  beautiful  as 
ever.  I  never  saw  an  old  lady  whose  age  adorned  her 
so." 

"  Thanks  for  the  compliment,  my  child.  It  would 
be  better  for  you  to  spend  your  admiration  on  your 
sisters.     I  will  whisper  the  truth  to  you.     Two  such 


THE    PRECIPICE  45 

beauties  you  will  not  find  in  the  town,  especially  the 
other.  ..." 

"  Where  is  my  other  sister  ?  " 

"  On  a  visit  to  the  pope's  wife  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Volga.  It  is  a  pity.  The  pope's  wife  has  been 
ill  and  sent  for  her,  of  course  just  now.  A  messenger 
shall  go." 

"  No !  No  !  Why  should  anyone  be  disturbed 
on  my  account  ?  " 

"  And  you  have  come  on  your  Grandmother  so 
suddenly.  We  waited,  waited,  in  vain.  The  peasants 
sat  up  for  you  at  night,  I  have  just  sent  Egorka  on 
to  the  highway  to  look  for  you  and  Savili  into  the 
town.  Now  you  must  have  your  breakfast.  Why 
is  it  so  long  in  coming  ?  The  master  has  come,  and 
there  is  nothing  ready,  just  as  if  the  house  was  nothing 
better  than  a  station.     Serve  what  is  ready." 

"  I  need  nothing.  Granny.  I  am  stuffed  with  food. 
At  one  station  I  drank  tea,  milk  at  another,  and  at 
the  third  there  was  a  wedding,  and  I  was  treated  to 
wine,  meat  and  gingerbread." 

"  You  are  on  your  way  home  to  your  Grandmother, 
and  are  not  ashamed  to  eat  and  drink  all  sorts  of  things. 
Gingerbread  in  the  morning !  Marfinka  ought  to 
have  been  there  ;  she  loves  weddings  and  gingerbread. 
Come  in.  Marfinka,  don't  be  so  shy.  She  is  ashamed 
because  you  caught  her  in  her  morning  gown.  Come 
here,  darling  ;  he  is  your  brother." 

Tea  and  coffee  appeared,  and  finally  breakfast. 
However  much  he  protested  Raisky  had  to  eat,  for 
otherwise  his  aunt's  morning  would  have  been  spoiled. 

"  Marfinka,  come  here  and  entertain  us." 

After  about  five  minutes  the  door  opened  slowly  and 
quietly,  and  Marfinka  entered,  blushing  with  confusion 
and  with  downcast  eyes.  At  her  heels  followed 
Vassilissa  with  a  tea-tray  full  of  sweets,  preserves, 
cakes,  etc.  Marfinka  stood  still,  betraying  in  her 
confusion  a  certain  curiosity.  She  wore  lace  at  her 
neck  and  wrists  ;  her  hair  was  plaited  firmly  around 
her  head  and  the  waist  of  her  barege  dress  encircled 
by  a  blue'ribbon. 


46  THE    PRECIPICE 

Raisky  threw  down  his  napkin,  and  jumped  up,  to 
stand  before  her  in  admiration.  "  How  lovely,"  he 
cried.  "  This  is  my  little  sister,  Marfa  Vassilievna 
And  is  the  goose  still  alive  ?  " 

Marfinka  became  still  more  embarrassed,  returned 
his  greeting  awkwardly,  and  retired  to  a  corner, 

"  You  have  both  gone  mad,"  interrupted  their 
aunt,     "  Is  that  the  way  to  greet  one  another  ?  " 

"  Marfa  Vassilievna,"  said  Raisky,  as  he  sought  to 
kiss  Marfinka 's  hand, 

"  Vassilievna  !  "  cried  Tatiana  Markovna.  "  Don't 
you  love  her  any  more  ?  Marfinka,  not  Marfa  Vassil- 
ievna !  You  will  be  addressing  me  as  Tatiana 
Markovna  next  !  Kiss  one  another.  Are  you  not 
brother  and  sister  ?  " 

"  I  won't,  Grandmama,  He  is  teasing  me  about 
the  goose.  It  is  not  polite  to  spy  on  people,"  she  said 
severely. 

Everybody  laughed,  Raisky  kissed  her  on  both 
cheeks,  embraced  her,  and  overcame  her  confusion. 
She  kissed  him  in  return,  and  her  shyness  vanished. 

"  Do  you  remember,  Marfinka,  how  we  used  to 
run  about  and  draw,  and  how  you  cried  ?  " 

"  No  ,  ,  .  but  yes.  I  do  remember  as  if  in  a 
dream." 

"  How  should  she  remember,  when  she  was  only 
five  ?  "  interrupted  her  aunt. 

"  But  I  do,  Grandmama,  as  in  a  dream." 

Raisky  had  hardly  captured  his  old  memories 
when  Marfinka  disappeared.  Soon  she  returned  with 
sketch  books,  drawings  and  toys,  and  sitting  down 
by  Raisky  in  friendly  fashion  began,  "  Granny  says 
that  I  don't  remember.  I  remember  how  you  used  to 
draw,  and  how  I  sat  on  your  knee.  Granny  has  all 
your  drawings,  portraits  and  sketch  books.  She  has 
kept  them  all  in  the  dark  room  where  the  silver,  the 
diamonds  and  the  lace  are.  She  got  them  out,  and 
gave  them  to  me  a  little  time  ago,  when  she  heard 
you  were  coming.  Here  is  my  portrait.  How  funny 
I  looked  !  And  here  is  Veroshka,  and  Granny,  and 
Vassilissa.     Do  you  remember  how  you  held  me,  and 


THE    PRECIPICE  47 

Veroshka  sat  on  your  shoulder,  and  you  carried  us 
over  the  water  ?  " 

"  Do  you  remember  that  too  ?  "  asked  her  aunt, 
"  Boastful  child  !     Veroshka  said  the  other  day.  ..." 

"  This  is  how  I  draw  now,"  said  Marfinka,  handing 
him  a  drawing  of  a  bunch  of  flowers. 

"  Splendid,  little  sister  !     Is  it  done  from  nature  ?  " 

"  Yes,  from  nature.     I  can  make  wax-flowers,  too." 

"  And  do  you  play  or  sing  ?  " 

"  I  play  the  piano." 

"  And  does  Veroshka  draw  and  play  ?  " 

Marfinka  shook  her  head. 

"  Does  she  like  needlework  ?  No  ?  Then  is  she 
fond  of  reading  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  reads  a  great  deal.  But  she  does  not 
tell  us  what  she  reads,  nor  show  us  the  book,  nor  even 
say  where  she  got  it." 

"  She  hides  herself  from  everybody,  does  my  strange 
child,"  sighed  Tatiana  Markovna.  "  God  only  knows 
what  will  become  of  her.  Now,  Marfinka,  don't 
waste  your  brother's  time  any  longer  with  your  chatter 
about  trifles.  We  will  talk  about  serious  matters, 
about  the  estate." 

The  old  lady  had  worn  a  serious  expression  while 
she  watched  Boris  as  he  talked  to  Marfinka.  She 
recognised  his  mother's  features,  but  the  changes  in 
his  face  did  not  escape  her — the  indications  of  vanishing 
youth,  the  premature  furrows  ;  and  she  was  baffled 
by  the  original  expression  of  his  eyes.  Formerly 
she  had  always  been  able  to  read  his  face,  but  now 
there  was  much  inscribed  on  it  that  was  undecipherable 
for  her.  Yet  his  temperament  was  open  and  affectionate 
and  his  words  frankly  interpreted  his  thoughts. 

Now  his  aunt  stood  before  him  wearing  a  most 
business-hke  expression  ;  in  her  hand  were  accounts 
and  a  ledger. 

"  Are  you  not  weary  with  your  journey  ?  "  she 
said.  "  You  are  yawning  and  perhaps  you  would 
like  a  httle  sleep.     Business  can  wait  till  to-morrow." 

*'  I  slept  a  good  deal  on  the  journey.     But  you  are 


48  THE    PRECIPICE 

giving  yourself  useless  trouble,  Grandmother,  for  I 
am  not  going  to  look  at  your  accounts." 

"  What  ?  You  have  surely  come  to  take  over 
the  estate  and  to  ask  for  an  account  of  my  stewardship. 
The  accounts  and  statements  that  I  sent  you " 

"  I  have  never  even  read,  Grandmother." 

"  You  haven't  read  them.  I  have  sent  you  precise 
information  about  your  income  and  you  don't  even 
know  how  your  money  is  spent." 

"  And  I  don't  want  to  know,"  answered  Raisky, 
looking  out  of  the  window  away  towards  the  banks 
of  the  Volga. 

"  Imagine,  Marfinka,"  he  said,  "  I  remember  a 
verse  I  learnt  as  a  child — 

"  '  Oh  Volga,  proudest  of  rivers, 
Stem  thy  hurrying  flood  ; 
Oh  Volga,  hearken,  hearken, 
To  the  ringing  song  of  the  poet. 
The  unknown,  whose  life  thou  hast  spared.'  " 

"  Don't  be  vexed  with  me,  Borushka,"  cried  Tatiana 
Markovna,  "  but  I  think  you  are  mad.  What  have 
you  done  with  the  papers  I  sent  you  ?  Have  you 
brought  them  ?  " 

"  Where  are  they  ?  "  she  continued,  as  he  shook  his 
head. 

"  Granny,  I  tore  up  all  the  accounts,  and  I  swear 
I  will  do  the  same  with  these  if  you  worry  me  with 
them." 

He  seized  the  paper,  but  she  snatched  them  away, 
exclaiming,  "  You  dare  to  tear  up  my  accounts." 

He  laughed,  suddenly  embraced  her,  and  kissed  her 
lips  as  he  had  done  when  she  was  a  child.  She 
shook  herself  free  and  v/iped  her  mouth. 

"  I  toil  till  midnight,  adding  up  and  writing  down 
every  kopek,  and  he  tears  up  my  work.  That  is  why 
you  never  wrote  about  money  matters,  gave  any 
orders,  made  any  preparations,  or  did  anything 
of  the  kind.     Did  you  never  think  of  your  estate  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,  Granny.  I  forgot  all  about  it.  If  I 
thought  at  all  I  thought  of  these  rooms  in  which  lives 


THE    PRECIPICE  49 

the  only  woman  who  loves  me  and  is  loved  by  me,  you 
alone  in  the  whole  world.  And  now,"  he  said,  turning 
to  Marfinka,  "  I  want  to  win  my  sisters  too." 

His  aunt  took  off  her  spectacles  and  gazed  at 
him. 

"  In  all  my  days  I  have  never  seen  anything  like 
it,"  she  said.  "  Here  the  only  person  with  no  roots 
like  that  is  Markushka." 

"  What  sort  of  person  is  this  Markushka.  Leonti 
Koslov  writes  about  him.  How  is  Leonti,  Granny  ? 
I  must  look  him  up." 

"  How  should  he  be  ?  He  crouches  in  one  spot 
with  a  book,  and  his  wife  in  another.  But  he  does 
not  even  see  what  goes  on  under  his  nose,  and  can 
any  good  come  from  his  friendship  with  this  Markushka. 
Only  the  other  day  your  friend  came  here  to  complain 
that  that  Markushka  was  destroying  books  from 
your  library.  You  know,  don't  you,  that  the  library 
from  the  old  house  has  been  installed  in  Koslov's 
house  ?  " 

Raisky  hummed  an  air  from  "  //  Barbiere." 

"  You  are  an  extraordinary  man,"  cried  his  aunt 
angrily.  "  Why  did  you  come  at  all  ?  Do  talk 
sensibly." 

"  I  came  to  see  you.  Granny,  to  live  here  for  a 
little  while,  to  breathe  freely,  to  look  out  over  the 
Volga,  to  write,  to  draw.  .  .  ." 

"  But  the  estate  ?  If  you  are  not  tired  we  will 
drive  out  into  the  field,  to  look  at  the  sowing  of  the 
winter-corn." 

"  Later  on.  Granny." 

"  Will  you  take  over  the  management  of  the  estate  ?  " 

"  No,  Granny,  I  will  not." 

"  Who  then  is  to  look  after  it  ?  I  am  old  and  can 
no  longer  do  all  the  work.  Do  you  wish  me  to  put 
the  estate  into  strange  hands  ?  " 

"  Farm  it  yourself.  Granny,  so  long  as  you  take 
any  pleasure  in  it." 

"  And  if  I  die  ?  " 

"  Then  leave  everything  as  it  is." 

Tatiana  Markovna  looked  at  the  portrait  of  Raisky's 


50  THE    PRECIPICE 

mother,  for  a  long  time  she  looked  at  the  languishing 
eyes,  the  melancholy  smile. 

"  Yes,"  she  whispered,  "  I  honour  the  memory 
of  the  departed,  but  hers  is  the  fault.  She  kept  you 
by  her  side,  talked  to  you,  played  the  piano,  read  out 
of  books  and  wept  as  she  did  so.  And  this  is  the 
result.  Singing  and  painting.  Now  tell  me,  Bo- 
rushka,"  she  went  on  in  her  ordinary  tone,  "  what 
is  to  become  of  the  house,  of  the  linen,  the  silver, 
the  diamonds  ?  Shall  you  order  them  to  be  given 
to  the  peasants  ?  " 

"  Do  I  possess  diamonds  and  silver  ?  " 

"  How  often  have  I  told  you  so  ?  From  your 
mother  you  have  inherited  all  these  things  ;  what  is  to 
be  done  with  them.  I  will  show  you  the  inventory 
of  them. 

"  Don't  do  that,  for  Heaven's  sake.  I  can  believe 
they  are  mine.  And  so  I  can  dispose  of  them  as  I 
please  ?  " 

"  Of  course  ;  you  are  the  proprietor.  We  live  here 
as  your  guests,  though  we  do  not  eat  your  bread. 
See  here  are  my  receipts  and  expenditure,"  she  said, 
thrusting  towards  another  big  ledger  which  he  waved 
away. 

"  But  I  believe  all  you  say,  Granny,"  he  said. 
"  Send  for  a  clerk  and  tell  him  to  make  out  a  deed,  by 
which  I  give  the  house,  the  land,  and  all  that  belongs 
to  it  to  my  dear  cousins,  Veroshka  and  Marfinka, 
as  dowry."  The  old  lady  wrinkled  her  brow, 
and  waited  impatiently  till  he  should  finish  speaking. 
"  So  long  as  you  live,  dear  Granny,"  he  continued, 
"  the  estate  naturally  remains  under  your  control  ; 
the  peasants  must  have  their  freedom.  ..." 

"  Never,"  interrupted  his  aunt,  "  Veroshka  and 
Marfinka  are  not  beggars — each  of  them  has  her 
fifty  thousand  roubles — and  after  my  death  three 
times  that  sum,  perhaps  more.  All  I  have  is  for  my 
little  girls,  and,  thank  God,  I  am  not  a  pauper.  I  have 
a  corner  of  my  own,  a  bit  of  land,  and  a  roof  to  cover 
them.  One  would  think  you  were  a  millionaire. 
You  make  gifts  ;  you  will  have  this,  and  you  won't 


THE    PRECIPICE  51 

have  that.  Here,  Marfinka  !  where  have  you  hidden 
3''ourself  ?  " 

"  Directly  !  "  cried  Marfinka's  clear  voice  from  a 
neighbouring  room.  Happy,  gay,  smiling  and  frank, 
she  fluttered  into  the  room,  looked  hesitatingly,  first 
at  Raisky,  then  at  her  aunt,  who  was  nearly  beside 
herself, 

"  Your  cousin,  Marfinka,  is  pleased  to  present  you 
with  a  house,  silver,  and  lace.  You  are,  he  thinks, 
a  beggared,  dowerless  girl.  Make  a  curtsey,  thank 
your  benefactor,  kiss  his  hand — Well  ?  " 

Marfinka,  who  did  not  know  what  to  say,  squeezed 
herself  flat  against  the  stove  and  looked  at  her  two 
relatives.  Her  aunt  pushed  papers  and  books  on  one 
side,  crossed  her  hands  over  her  breast,  and  looked 
out  of  the  window,  while  Raisky  sat  down  beside 
Marfinka,  and  took  her  hand. 

"  Would  you  like  to  go  away  from  here,  Marfinka, 
into  a  strange  house,  perhaps  in  an  altogether  different 
district  ?  " 

"  God  forbid  !  How  could  such  a  thing  happen. 
Who  ever  imagined  such  nonsense  ?  " 

"  Granny,"   laughed   Raisky. 

Happily  "  Granny "  had  not  heard  the  words. 
Marfinka  was  embarrassed,  and  looked  out  of  the 
window. 

"  Here  I  have  everything  I  want,  the  lovely 
flowers  in  the  garden,  the  birds.  Who  would  look 
after  the  birds  ?  I  will  never  go  away  from  here, 
never  !  " 

"  But  Granny  wants  to  go  and  take  you  with  her." 

"  Granny  !  Where  ?  Why  ?  "  she  asked  her  aunt 
in  her  caressing,  coaxing  way. 

"  Don't  tease  me,"  said  Tatiana  Markovna. 

"  Marfinka,  you  don't  want  to  leave  home  ?  " 
asked  Boris. 

"  Not  for  anything  in  the  world.  How  could  such 
a    thing    be  ?  " 

"  What  would  Veroshka  say  about  it  ?  " 

"  She  would  never  be  separated  from  the  old  house." 

"  She  loves  the  old  house  ?  " 


52  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  Yes.  She  is  only  happy  when  she  is  here.  If  she 
were  taken  away  from  it  she  would  die.  We  both 
should." 

"  That  matter  is  settled  then,  little  sister.  You  two, 
Veroshka  and  you,  will  accept  the  gift  from  me, 
won't  you  ?  " 

"  I  will  if  Veroshka  agrees." 

"  Agreed,  dear  sister.  You  are  not  so  proud  as 
Granny,"  he  said,  as  he  kissed  her  forehead. 

"  What  is  agreed  ?  "  suddenly  grumbled  Tatiana 
Markovna.  "  You  have  accepted  ?  Who  told  you 
you  might  accept  ?  Grandmother  will  never  permit 
you  to  live  at  a  stranger's  expense.  Be  so  kind,  Boris 
Pavlovich,  as  to  take  over  books,  accounts,  inventories 
and  sales.  I  am  not  your  paid  servant."  She  pushed 
papers  and  books  towards  him. 

"  Granny  !  " 

"  Granny !  My  name  is  Tatiana  Markovna 
Berezhkov."  She  stood  up,  and  opened  the  door 
into  the  servants'  room.     "  Send  Savili  here." 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  a  peasant  of  almost 
forty-five  years  of  age  opened  the  door  with  a  casual 
greeting.  He  was  strongly-built,  big  boned,  and  was 
robust,  without  being  fat.  His  eyes  with  their  over- 
hanging brows  and  wide  heavy  lids,  wasted  no  idle 
glances  ;  he  neither  spoke  an  unnecessary  word,  nor 
made  a  superfluous  gesture. 

"  The  proprietor  is  here,"  said  Tatiana  Markovna, 
indicating  Raisky.  "  You  must  now  make  your 
reports  to  him.  He  intends  to  administer  the  estate 
himself." 

Savili  looked  askance  at  Raisky. 

"  At  your  orders,"  he  said  stiffly,  slowly  raising  his 
eyes.  "  What  orders  are  you  pleased  to  give  ?  "  he 
asked,  lowering  his  eyes  again. 

Raisky  thought  for  a  moment  before  he  replied  : 

"  Do  you  know  an  official  who  could  draw  up  a 
document  for  the  transfer  of  the  estate  ?  " 

"  Gavril  Ivanov  Meshetshnikov  draws  up  the  papers 
we  require,"   he  said. 

"  Send  for  him." 


THE    PRECIPICE  53 

As  Savili  bowed,  and  slowly  retired,  Raisky  followed 
him   with   his   eyes. 

"  An  anxious  rascal,"  was  his  comment. 

"  How  should  he  be  other  than  anxious,"  said  his 
aunt,  "  when  he  is  tied  to  a  wife  like  Marina  Antipovna  ? 
Do  you  remember  Antip  ?  Well,  she  is  his  daughter. 
But  for  his  marriage  he  is  a  treasure.  He  does  my 
important  business,  sells  the  corn,  and  collects  the 
money.  He  is  honest  and  practical,  but  fate  deals  her 
blows  where  she  will,  and  every  man  must  bear  his 
own  burden.  But  what  idea  have  you  in  your  head 
now  ?     Are  you  beside  yourself  ?  " 

"  Something  must  be  done.  I  am  going  away,  and 
you  will  not  administer  the  estate,  so  some  arrangement 
must  be  made." 

"  And  is  that  your  reason  for  going  ?  I  thought  you 
were  now  going  to  take  over  the  management  of  your 
estate.  You  have  done  enough  gadding  about.  Why 
not  marry  and  settle  here  ?  " 

She  was  visibly  struggling  with  herself.  It  had 
never  entered  her  head  to  give  up  the  administration  ; 
she  would  not  have  known  what  to  do  with  herself. 
Her  idea  had  been  to  alarm  Raisky,  and  he  was  taking 
her  seriously. 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ?  "  she  said.  "  I  will  see  after 
the  estate  as  long  as  I  have  the  strength  to  do  so.  How 
else  should  you  live,  you  strange  creature  ?  " 

"  I  receive  two  thousand  roubles  from  my  other 
estate,  and  that  is  a  sufficient  income  I  want  to 
work,  to  draw,  to  write,  to  travel  for  a  little  ;  and  for 
that  purpose  I  might  mortgage  or  sell  the  other 
estate." 

"  God  bless  you,  Borushka,  what  next  ?  Are  you 
so  near  beggary  ?  You  talk  of  drawing,  writing, 
alienating  your  land  ;  next  it  will  be  giving  lessons  or 
school  teaching.  Instead  of  arriving  with  four  horses 
and  a  travelling  carriage  you  sneak  in,  without  a 
servant,  in  a  miserable  kihitka,  you,  a  Raisky.  Look 
at  the  old  house,  at  the  portraits  of  your  ancestors, 
and  take  shame  to  yourself.  Shame,  Borushka  !  How 
splendid  it  would  have  been  if  you  had  come  epauletted 


54  THE  PRECIPICE 

like  Sergei  Ivanovich,  and  had  married  a  wife  with  a 
dowry  of  three  thousand  souls." 

Raisky  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Why  laugh  ?  I  am  speaking  seriously  when  I  tell 
you  what  a  joy  it  would  have  been  for  your  Grand- 
mother. Then  you  would  have  wanted  the  lace  and 
the  silver,  and  not  be  flinging  it  away." 

"  But  as  I  am  not  marrying,  I  don't  need  these 
things.  Therefore  it  is  settled  that  Veroshka  and 
Marfinka  shall  have  them." 

"  Your  decision  is  final  ?  " 

"It  is  final.  And  it  is  further  settled  that  if  you 
do  not  like  this  arrangement,  everything  passes  into 
the  hands  of  strangers.  You  have  my  word  for 
it." 

"  Your  word  for  it,"  cried  his  aunt.  "  You 
are  a  lost  man.  Where  have  you  lived,  and  what  have 
you  done.  Tell  me,  for  Heaven's  sake,  what  your 
purpose  in  life  is,  and  what  you  really  are  ?  " 

"  What  I  am.  Grandmother  ?  The  unhappiest  of 
men  !  "  He  leaned  his  head  back  on  the  cushion  as 
he  spoke. 

"  Never  say  such  a  thing,"  she  interrupted. 
"  Fate  hears  and  exacts  the  penalty,  and  you  will  one 
day  be  unhappy.     Either  be  content  or  feign  content." 

She  looked  anxiously  round,  as  if  Fate  were  already 
standing  at  her  shoulder. 

Raisky  rose  from  the  divan. 

"  Let  us  be  reconciled,"  he  said.  "  Agree  to  keep 
this  little  corner  of  God's  earth  under  your  protection." 

"  It  is  an  estate,  not  a  '  corner.'  " 

"  Resign  yourself  to  my  gift  of  this  old  stuff  to  the 
dear  girls.  A  lonely  man  like  me  has  no  use  for  it, 
but  they  will  be  mistresses  of  a  house.  If  you  don't 
agree,  I  will  present  it  to  the  school.  ..." 

"  The  school-children  I  Those  rascals  who  steal 
our  apples,  shall  not  have  it." 

"  Come  to  the  point.  Granny  1  You  don't  really 
want  to  leave  this  nest  in  your  old  age." 

"  We'll  see,  we'll  see.  Give  them  the  lace  on  their 
wedding-day.     I  can  do  nothing  with  you  ;  talk  to  Tiet 


THE    PRECIPICE  55 

Nikonich  who  is  coming  to  dinner."  And  she  wondered 
what  would  come  of  such  strangeness. 

Raisky  took  his  cap  to  go  out,  and  Marfinka  went 
with  him.  She  showed  him  the  park,  her  own  garden, 
the  vegetable  and  flower  gardens,  and  the  arbours. 
When  they  came  to  the  precipice  she  looked  anxiously 
over  the  edge,  and  drew  back  with  a  shudder.  Raisky 
looked  down  on  the  Volga,  which  was  in  flood,  and 
had  overflowed  into  the  meadows.  In  the  distance 
were  ships  which  appeared  to  be  motionless,  and  above 
hung  heaped  banks  of  cloud.  Marfinka  drew  closer 
to  Raisky,  and  looked  down  indifferently  on  the 
familiar  picture. 

"  Come  down  I  "  he  said  suddenly,  and  seized  her 
hand. 

"  No,  I  am  afraid,"  she  answered  trembling,  and 
drew  back. 

"  I  won't  let  you  fall.  Do  you  think  I  can't  take 
care  of  you  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,  but  I  am  afraid.  Veroshka  has  no 
fear,  but  goes  down  alone,  even  in  the  dusk.  Although 
a  murderer  lies  buried  there,  she  is  not  afraid." 

"  Try,  shut  your  eyes,  and  give  me  your  hand. 
You  will  see  how  carefully  I  take  you  down." 

Marfinka  half  closed  her  eyes,  but  she  had  hardly 
taken  his  hand  and  made  one  step,  when  she  found 
herself  standing  on  the  edge  of  the  precipice.  Shudder- 
ing she  withdrew  her  hand. 

"  I  would  not  go  down  for  anything  in  the  world," 
she  cried  as  she  ran  back.  "  Where  are  you  going 
to!" 

No  answer  reached  her.  She  approached  the  edge 
and  looked  timidly  over.  She  saw  how  the  bushes 
were  bent  noisily  aside,  as  Raisky  sprang  down,  step 
by  step.  How  horrible  !  she  thought  as  she  returned 
to  the  house. 


CHAPTER  VII 

Raisky  went  nearly  all  round  the  town,  and  when 
he  climbed  the  cliffs  once  more,  he  was  on  the  extreme 
boundary  of  his  estate.  A  steep  path  led  down  to 
the  suburbs,  and  the  town  lay  before  him  as  in  the 
palm  of  a  hand.  Stirred  with  the  passion  aroused 
by  his  memories  of  childhood,  he  looked  at  the  rows 
of  houses,  cottages  and  huts.  It  was  not  a  town, 
but,  like  other  towns,  a  cemetery.  Going  from  street 
to  street,  Raisky  saw  through  the  windows,  how  in 
one  house  the  family  sat  at  dinner,  and  in  another  the 
jamovar  had  already  been  brought  in.  In  the  empty 
streets,  every  conversation  could  be  heard  a  verst 
away  ;  voices  and  footsteps  re-echoed  on  the  wooden 
pavement.  It  seemed  to  Raisky  a  picture  of  dreamy 
peace,  the  tranquillity  of  the  grave.  What  a  frame 
for  a  novel,  if  only  he  knew  what  to  put  in  the  novel. 
The  houses  fell  into  their  places  in  the  picture  that 
filled  his  mind,  he  drew  in  the  faces  of  the  towns-people, 
grouped  the  servants  with  his  aunt,  the  whole  com- 
position centring  in  Marfinka.  The  figures  stood 
sharply  outlined  in  his  mind  ;  they  lived  and  breathed. 
If  the  image  of  passion  should  float  over  this  motion- 
less sleeping  little  world,  the  picture  would  glow  with 
the  enchanting  colour  of  life.  Where  was  he  to  find 
the  passion,  the  colour  ? 
.  "  Passion  !  "  he  repeated  to  himself.  If  her  burning 
fire  could  but  be  poured  out  upon  him,  and  engulf 
the  artist  in  her  destroying  waves. 

As  he  moved  forward  he  remembered  that  his  stroll 
had  an  aim.  He  wondered  how  Leonid  Koslov 
was,  whether  he  had  changed,  or  whether  he  had 
remained  what  he  had  been  before,  a  child  for  all  his 
learning.  He  too  was  a  good  subject  for  an  artist. 
Raisky  thought  of  Leonti's  beautiful  wife,  whose 
acquaintance  he  had  made  during  his  student  days 


THE    PRECIPICE  57 

in  Moscow,  when  she  was  a  young  girl.  She  used  to 
call  Leonti  her  fiance,  without  any  denial  on  his  part, 
and  five  years  after  he  had  left  the  University  he  made 
the  journey  to  Moscow,  and  married  her.  He  loved 
his  wife  as  a  man  loves  air  and  warmth  ;  absorbed  in 
the  life  and  art  of  the  ancients,  his  lover's  eyes  saw  in 
her  the  antique  ideal  of  beauty.  The  lines  of  her  neck 
and  bosom  charmed  him,  and  her  head  recalled  to 
him  Roman  heads  seen  on  bas-reliefs  and  cameos. 

Leonti  did  not  recognise  Raisky,  when  his  friend 
suddenly  entered  his  study. 

"  I  have  not  the  honour,"  he  began. 

But  when  Boris  Pavlovich  opened  his  lips  he 
embraced  him. 

"  Wife  !  Ulinka  I  "  he  cried  into  the  garden. 
"  Come  quickly,  and  see  who  has  come  to  see  us." 

She  came  hastily,  and  kissed  Raisky. 

"  What  a  man  you  have  grown,  and  how  much  more 
handsome  you  are  I  "  she  said,  her  eyes  flashing. 

Her  eyes,  her  mien,  her  whole  figure  betrayed 
audacity.  Just  over  thirty  years  old,  she  gave  the 
impression  of  a  splendidly  developed  specimen  of 
blooming  womanhood. 

"  Have  you  forgotten  me  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  How  should  he  forget  you  ?  "  broke  in  Leonti. 
"  But  Ulinka  is  right.  You  have  altered,  and  are 
hardly  recognisable  with  your  beard.  How  delighted 
your  Aunt  must  have  been  to  see  you." 

"  Ah  !  his  Aunt  !  "  remarked  Juliana  Andreevna 
in  a  tone  of  displeasure.     "  I  don't  like  her." 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  She  is  despotic  and  censorious." 

"  Yes,  she  is  a  despot,"  answered  Raisky,  "  That 
comes  from  intercourse  with  serfs.     Old  customs  !  " 

"  According  to  Tatiana  Markovna,"  continued 
Juliana  Andreevna,  "  everybody  should  stay  on 
one  spot,  turn  his  head  neither  to  right  nor  left,  and 
never  exchange  a  word  with  his  neighbours.  She  is 
a  past  mistress  in  fault-finding  ;  nevertheless  she  and 
Tiet  Nikonich  are  inseparable,  he  spends  his  days  and 
nights  with  her." 


S8  THE    PRECIPICE 

Raisky  laughed  and  said,  "  She  is  a  saint  never- 
theless, whatever  you  may  find  to  say  about  her." 

"  A  saint  perhaps,  but  nothing  is  right  for  her. 
Her  world  is  in  her  two  nieces,  and  who  knows  how 
they  will  turn  out  ?  Marfinka  plays  with  her  canaries 
and  her  flowers,  and  the  other  sits  in  the  comer  like 
the  family  ghost,  and  not  a  word  can  be  got  from  her. 
We  shall  see  what  will  become  of  her." 

"  Veroshka  ?  I  haven't  seen  her  yet.  She  is 
away  on  a  visit  on  the  other  side  of  the  Volga." 

"  And  who  knows  what  her  business  is  there  ?  " 

"  I  love  my  Aunt  as  if  she  were  my  Mother,"  said 
Raisky  emphatically.  "  She  is  wise,  honourable,  just  ! 
She  has  strength  and  individuality,  and  there  is 
nothing  commonplace  about  her." 

"  You  will  believe  everything  she  says  ?  "  asked 
Juliana  Andreevna,  drawing  him  away  to  the  window, 
while  Leonti  collected  the  scattered  papers,  laid  them 
in  cupboards  and  put  the  books  on  the  shelves. 

"  Yes,  everything,"  she  said. 

"  Don't  believe  her.  I  know  she  will  tell  you  all 
sorts  of  nonsense — about  Monsieur  Charles." 

"  Who  is  he  ?  " 

"  A  Frenchman,  a  teacher,  and  a  colleague  of  my 
husband's.  They  sit  there  reading  till  all  hours.  How 
can  I  help  it  ?  Yet  God  knows  what  they  make  out 
of  it  in  the  town,  as  if  I  .  .  .  Don't  believe  it,"  she 
went  on,  as  she  saw  Raisky  was  silent.  "  It  is  idle 
talk,  there  is  nothing,"  she  concluded,  with  a  false 
smile  intended  to  be  allowing. 

"  What  business  is  it  of  mine  ?  "  returned  Raisky, 
turning  away  from  her.  "  Shall  we  go  into  the 
garden  ?  " 

"  Yes,  we  will  have  dinner  outside,"  said  Leonti. 
"  Serve  what  there  is,  Ulinka.  Come,  Boris,  now 
we  can  talk."  Then  as  an  idea  struck  him,  he  added, 
"  What  shall  you  have  to  say  to  me  about  the  library  ?  " 

"  About  what  library  ?  You  wrote  to  me  about  it, 
but  I  did  not  understand  what  you  were  talking 
about.  I  think  you  said  some  person  called  Mark, 
had  been  tearing  the  books." 


THE    PRECIPICE  59 

"  You  cannot  imagine,  Boris,  how  vexed  I  was 
about  it,"  he  said  as  he  took  down  some  books  with 
torn  backs  from  the  shelves. 

Raisky  pushed  the  books  away.  "  What  does  it 
matter  to  me  ?  "  he  said.  "  You  are  Hke  my  grand- 
mother ;  she  bothers  me  about  accounts,  you  about 
books." 

"  But  Boris,  I  don't  know  what  accounts  she 
bothered  you  about,  but  these  books  are  your  most 
precious  possession.  Look  !  "  he  §aid,  pointing  with 
pride  to  the  rows  of  books  which  filled  the  study  to 
the  ceiling. 

"  Only  on  this  shelf  nearly  everything  is  ruined  by 
that  accursed  Mark  !  The  other  books  are  all  right. 
See,  I  drew  up  a  catalogue,  which  took  a  whole  year 
to  do,"  and  he  pointed  self-consciously  to  a  thick 
bound  volume  of  manuscript.  "  I  wrote  it  all  with 
my  own  hand,"  he  continued.  "  Sit  down,  Boris, 
and  read  out  the  names.  I  will  get  on  the  ladder, 
and  show  you  the  books  ;  they  are  arranged  according 
to  their  numbers." 

"  What  an  idea  I  " 

"  Or  better  wait  till  after  dinner  ;  we  shall  not  be 
able  to  finish  before." 

"  Listen,  should  you  like  to  have  a  library  like 
that  ?  "  asked  Raisky. 

"  I  !  a  library  like  that  ?  '* 

Sunshine  blazed  from  Leonti's  eyes,  he  smiled  so 
broadly  that  even  the  hair  on  his  brow  stirred  with 
the  dislocation  caused.  "  A  library  like  that  ?  "  He 
shook  his  head.     "  You  must  be  mad." 

"  Tell  me,  do  you  love  me  as  you  used  to  do  ? 

"  Why  do  you  ask  ?     Of  course." 

"  Then  the  books  shall  be  yours  for  good  and  all, 
under  one  condition." 

"  I — take  these  books  I  " 

Leonti  looked  now  at  the  books,  now  at  Raisky, 
then  made  a  gesture  of  refusal,  and  sighed. 

"  Do  not  laugh  at  me,  Boris  !     Don't  tempt  mc." 

"  I  am  not  joking." 

Here    Juliana    Andreevna,    who    had    heard    the 


6o  THE    PRECIPICE 

last   words,  chimed   in   with,    "  Take  what   is  given 
you." 

"  She  is  always  like  that,"  sighed  Leonti.  "  On 
feast  days  the  tradesmen  come  with  presents,  and  on 
the  eve  of  the  examinations  the  parents.  I  send 
them  away,  but  my  wife  receives  them  at  the  side 
door.  She  looks  like  Lucretia,  but  she  has  a  sweet 
tooth,  a  dainty  one,' 

Raisky  laughed,  but  Juliana  Andreevna  was  annoyed. 

"Go  to  your  Lucretia,"  she  said  indifferently 
"  He  compares  me  with  everybody.  One  day  I  am 
Cleopatra,  then  Lavinia,  then  Cornelia.  Better  take 
the  books  when  they  are  offered  you.  Boris  Pavlovich 
will  give  them  to  me." 

"  Don't  take  it  on  yourself  to  ask  him  for  gifts," 
commanded  Leonti.  "  And  what  can  we  give  him  ? 
Shall  I  hand  you  over  to  him,  for  instance  ?  "  he  added 
as  he  embraced  her. 

"  Splendid  !  Take  me,  Boris  Pavlovich,"  she  cried, 
throwing  a  sparkling  glance  at  him. 

''  If  yoi;  don't  take  the  books,  Leonti,"  said  Raisky, 
"  I  will  make  them  over  to  the  Gymnasium.  Give 
me  the  catalogue,  and  I'll  send  it  to  the  Director 
to-morrow. 

He  put  his  hand  out  for  the  catalogue,  of  which 
Leonti  kept  a  tight  hold. 

"  The  Gymnasium  shall  never  get  one  of  them,"  he 
cried.  "  You  don't  know  the  Director,  who  cares  for 
books  just  about  as  much  as  I  do  for  perfume  and 
pomade.  They  will  be  destroyed,  torn,  and  worse 
handled  than  by  Mark." 

"  Then  take  them." 

"  To  give  away  such  treasures  all  in  a  minute.  It 
would  be  comprehensible  if  you  were  selling  them  to 
responsible  hands.  I  have  never  wanted  so  much  to 
be  rich.  I  would  give  five  thousand.  I  cannot 
accept,  I  cannot.  You  are  a  spendthrift,  or  rather  a 
blind,  ignorant  child " 

"  Many  thanks." 

"  I  didn't  mean  that,"  cried  Leonti  in  confusion. 
"  You  are  an  artist  ;  you  need  pictures,  statues,  music  ; 


THE    PRECIPICE  6i 

and  books  are  nothing  to  you.  Besides,  you  don't 
know  what  treasures  you  possess  ;  after  dinner  I  will 
show  you," 

"  Well,  in  the  afternoon,  instead  of  drinking 
coffee,  you  will  go  over  with  the  books  to  the  Gym- 
nasium for  me." 

"  Wait,  Boris,  what  was  the  condition  on  which 
you  would  give  me  the  books.  Will  you  take  instal- 
ments from  my  salary  for  them  ?  I  would  sell  all  I 
have,  pledge  myself  and  my  wife." 

"  No,  thank  you,"  broke  in  Juliana  Andreevna, 
"  I  can  pledge  or  sell  myself  if  I  want  to." 

Leonti  and  Raisky  looked  at  one  another. 

"  She  does  not  think  before  she  speaks,"  said 
Leonti.     "  But  tell  me  what  the  condition  is." 

"  That  you  never  mention  these  books  to  me  again, 
even  if  Mark  tears  them  to  pieces." 

"  Do  you  mean  I  am  not  to  let  him  have  access 
to  them  ?  " 

"  He  is  not  likely  to  ask  you,"  put  in  Juliana  An- 
dreevna. "As  if  that  monster  cared  for  what  you 
may  say." 

"  How  Ulinka  loves  me,"  said  Leonti  to  Raisky. 
"  Would  that  every  woman  loved  her  husband  like 
that." 

He  embraced  her.  She  dropped  her  eyes,  and  the 
smile  died  from  her  face. 

"  But  for  her  you  would  not  see  a  single  button  on 
my  clothes,"  continued  Leonti.  "  I  eat  and  sleep 
comfortably,  and  our  household  goes  on  evenly  and 
placidly.  However  small  my  means  are  she  knows  how 
to  make  them  provide  for  everything."  She  raised 
her  eyes,  and  looked  at  them,  for  the  last  statement 
was  true.  "  It's  a  pity,"  continued  Leonti,  "  that 
she  does  not  care  about  books.  She  can  chatter 
French  fast  enough,  but  if  you  give  her  a  book,  she 
does  not  understand  half  of  it.  She  still  writes 
Russian  incorrectly.  If  she  sees  Greek  characters, 
she  says  they  would  make  a  good  pattern  for  cotton 
printing,  and  sets  the  book  upside  down.  And  she 
cannot  even  read  a  Latin  title." 


62  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  That  will  do.  Not  another  word  about  the 
books.  Only  on  that  condition,  I  don't  send  them 
to  the  Gymnasium.  Now  let  us  sit  down  to  table,  or 
I  shall  go  to  my  Grandmother's,  for  I  am  famished." 

"  Do  you  intend  to  spend  your  whole  life  like  this  ?  " 
asked  Raisky  as  he  was  sitting  after  dinner  alone  with 
Leonti  in  the  study. 

"  Yes,  what  more  do  I  need  ?  " 

"  Have  you  no  desires,  does  nothing  call  you  away 
from  this  place,  have  you  no  longings  for  freedom 
and  space,  and  don't  you  feel  cramped  in  this  narrow 
frame  of  hedge,  church  spire  and  house,  under  your 
very  nose  ?  " 

"  Have  I  so  little  to  look  at  under  my  nose  ?  " 
asked  Leonti,  pointing  to  the  books.  "  I  have  books, 
pupils,  and  in  addition  a  wife  and  peace  of  heart, 
isn't  that  enough  ?  " 

"  Are  books  hfe  ?  This  old  trash  has  a  great 
deal  to  answer  for.  Men  strive  forwards,  seek  to 
improve  themselves,  to  cleanse  their  conceptions, 
to  drive  away  the  mist,  to  meet  the  problems  of  society 
by  justice,  civilisation,  orderly  administration,  while 
you  instead  of  looking  at  life,  study  books." 

"  What  is  not  to  be  found  in  books  is  not  to  be 
found  in  life  either,  or  if  there  is  anything  it  is  of 
no  importance,"  said  Leonti  firmly.  "  The  whole 
programme  of  public  and  private  life  lies  behind  us  ; 
we  can  find  an  example  for  everything." 

"  You  are  still  the  same  old  student,  Leonti,  always 
worrying  about  what  has  been  experienced  in  the 
past,  and  never  thinking  of  what  you  yourself  are." 

"  What  I  am  !  I  am  a  teacher  of  the  classics.  I 
am  as  deeply  concerned  with  the  life  of  the  past, 
as  you  with  ideals  and  figures.  You  are  an  artist. 
WTiy  should  you  wonder  that  certain  figures  are  dear 
to  me  ?  Since  when  have  artists  ceased  to  draw  water 
from  the  wells  of  the  ancients  ?  " 

"  Yes,  an  artist,"  said  Raisky,  with  a  sigh.  He 
pointed  to  his  head  and  breast.  "  Here  are  figures, 
notes,  forms,  enthusiasm,  the  creative  passion,  and  as 
yet  I  have  done  almost  nothing." 


THE    PRECIPICE  63 

"  What  restrains  you  ?  You  are  now  painting, 
you  wrote  me,  a  great  picture,  which  you  mean  to 
exhibit." 

"  The  devil  take  the  great  pictures.  I  shall  hardly 
be  able  to  devote  my  whole  energy  to  painting  now. 
One  must  put  one's  whole  being  into  a  great  picture, 
and  then  to  give  effect  to  one  hundredth  part  of  what 
one  has  put  in  a  representation  of  a  fleeting,  irrecover- 
able impression.     Sometimes  I  paint  portraits.  ..." 

"  What  art  are  you  following  now  ?  " 

"  There  is  but  one  Art  that  can  satisfy  the  artist 
of  to-day,  the  art  of  words,  of  poetry,  which  is  limitless 
in  its  possibilities." 

"  You  write  verses  then  ?  " 

"  Verses  are  children's  food.  In  verse  you  celebrate 
a  love  affair,  a  festival,  flowers,  a  nightingale." 

"  And  satire.  Remember  the  use  made  of  it  by 
the  Romans." 

With  these  words  he  would  have  gone  to  the  book- 
shelf, but  Raisky  held  him.  back.  "  You  may,"  he 
said,  "  be  able  now  and  then  to  hit  a  diseased  spot 
with  satire.  Satire  is  a  rod,  whose  stroke  stings 
but  has  no  further  consequences  ;  but  she  does  not 
show  you  figures  brimming  with  life,  she  does  not  reveal 
the  depths  of  life  with  its  secret  mainsprings  of  action, 
she  holds  no  mirror  before  your  eyes.  It  is  only  the 
novel  that  comprehends  and  mirrors  the  life  of  man." 

"  So  you  are  writing  a  novel  ?     On  what  subject  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  yet  quite  decided." 

"  Don't  at  all  events  describe  this  pettifogging, 
miserable  existence  which  stares  us  in  the  face  without 
the  medium  of  art.  Our  contemporary  hterature 
squeezes  every  worm,  every  peasant-girl,  and  I  don't 
know  what  else,  into  the  novel.  Choose  a  historical 
subject,  worthy  of  your  vivacious  imagination  and 
your  clean-cut  style.  Do  you  remember  how  you 
used  to  write  of  old  Russia  ?  Now  it  is  the  fashion 
to  choose  material  from  the  ant-heap,  the  talking  shop 
of  everyday  Ufe.  This  is  to  be  the  stuff  of  which 
literature  is  made.     Bah  !  it  is  the  merest  journalism." 

"  There  we  are  again  on  the  old  controversy.     If 


64  THE    PRECIPICE 

you  once  mount  that  horse,  there  will  be  no  calling 
you  back.  Let  us  leave  this  question  for  the  moment, 
and  go  back  to  my  question.  Are  you  satisfied  to 
spend  your  life  here,  as  you  are  now  doing,  with  no 
desires  for  anything  further  ?  " 

Leonti  looked  at  him  in  astonishment,  with  wide 
opened  eyes. 

"  You  do  nothing  for  your  generation,"  Raisky 
went  on,  "  but  creep  backwards  like  a  crab.  Why 
are  you  for  ever  talking  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans  ? 
Their  work  is  done,  and  ours  is  to  bring  life  into  these 
cemeteries,  to  shake  the  slumbering  ghosts  out  of  their 
twilight  dreams." 

"  And  how  is  the  task  to  be  begun  ?  " 

"  I  mean  to  draw  a  picture  of  this  existence,  to  reflect 
it  as  in  a  mirror.     And  you.  ..." 

"  I  too  accompHsh  something.  I  have  prepared 
several  boys  for  the  University."  remarked  Leonti 
with  hesitation,  for  he  was  not  sure  whether  this 
was  meritorious  or  not.  "  You  imagine  that  I  go 
into  my  class,  then  home,  and  forget  about  everything. 
That  is  not  the  case.  Young  people  gather  round 
me,  attach  themselves  to  me,  and  I  show  them  drawings 
of  old  buildings,  utensils,  make  sketches  and  give 
explanations,  as  I  once  did  for  you.  What  I  know 
myself  I  communicate  to  others,  explain  the  ancient 
ideals  of  virtue,  expound  classical  life,  just  as  our 
own  classics  are  explained.  Is  that  no  longer 
essential  ?  " 

"  Certainly  it  has  its  advantage.  But  it  has  nothing 
to  do  with  real  life.  One  cannot  live  like  that  to-day. 
So  much  has  disappeared,  so  many  things  have  arisen 
that  the  Greeks  and  Romans  never  knew.  But  we 
need  models  from  contemporary  life,  we  must  educate 
ourselves  and  others  to  be  men.     That  is  our  task." 

"  No,  I  do  not  take  that  upon  my  shoulders  ;  it  is 
sufficient  for  one  to  take  the  models  of  ancient  virtue 
from  books.  I  myself  live  for  and  through  myself. 
You  see  I  live  quietly  and  modestly,  eat  my  vermicelli 
soup.  ..." 

"  Life  for  and  through  yourself  is  not  life  at  all, 


THE    PRECIPICE  65 

it  is  a  passive  condition,  and  man  is  a  fighting 
animal." 

"  I  have  already  told  you  that  I  do  my  duty  and 
do  not  interfere  in  anybody  else's  business  ;  and  no 
one  interferes  with  mine." 

"  Life's  arm  is  long,  and  will  not  spare  even  you. 
And  how  will  you  meet  her  b'ows — unprepared." 

"  What  has  Life  to  do  with  a  humble  man  like  me  ? 
I  shall  pass  unnoticed.  I  have  books,  although  they 
are  not  mine,"  he  said  glancing  hesitat  ngly  at  Raisky, 
"  but  you  give  me  free  use  of  them.  My  needs  are 
small,  I  feel  no  boredom.  I  have  a  wife  who  loves 
me.  .  .  ." 

Raisky  looked  away. 

"  And,"  he  added  in  a  whisper,  "  I  love  her." 

It  was  plain  that  as  his  mind  nourished  itself  on 
the  books,  so  his  heart  had  found  a  warm  refuge  ; 
he  himself  did  not  even  know  what  bound  him  to 
life  and  books,  and  did  not  guess  that  he  might  keep 
his  books  and  lose  his  life,  and  that  his  life  would  be 
maimed  if  his  "  Roman  head  "  was  stolen  from  him. 

Happy  child,  thought  Raisky.  In  his  learned  sleep 
he  does  not  notice  the  darkness  that  is  hidden  in  that 
dear  Roman  head,  nor  how  empty  the  woman's  heart 
is.  He  is  helpless  as  far  as  she  is  concerned,  and  will 
never  convince  her  of  the  virtues  of  the  ancient  ideals. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

The  sun  was  setting  when  Raisky  returned  home, 
and  was  received  at  the  door  by  Marfinka. 

"  Where  did  you  get  lost,  Cousin  ?  "  she  asked  him. 
"  Grandmother  is  very  angry,  and  is  grumbling.  ..." 

"  I  was  with  Leonti,"  returned  Raisky  indifferently. 

"  I  thought  so,  and  told  Grandmother  so,  but  she 
won't  listen  and  will  hardly  speak  even  toTietNikonich. 
He  is  with  her  now  and  Paulina  Karpovna  too.  Go 
to  Grandmother,  and  it  will  be  all  right.  Are  you 
afraid.     Does  your  heart  beat  fast  ?  " 


66  THE    PRECIPICE 

Raisky  had  to  laugh. 

"  She  is  very  angry.  We  had  prepared  so  many 
dishes." 

"  We  will  eat  them  up  for  supper." 

"  Will  you  ?  Grandmother,  Grandmother,"  she  cried 
happily,  "  Cousin  has  come  and  wants  his  supper." 

His  aunt  sat  severely  there,  and  did  not  look  up 
when  Raisky  entered.  Tiet  Nikonich  embraced  him. 
He  received  an  elegant  bow  from  Paulina  Karpovna, 
an  elaborately  got-up  person  of  forty-five  in  a  low  cut 
muslin  gown,  with  a  fine  lace  handkerchief  and  a 
fan,  which  she  kept  constantly  in  motion  although 
there  was  no  heat. 

"  What  a  man  you  have  grown  !  I  should  hardly 
have  known  you,"  said  Tiet  Nikonich,  beaming  with 
kindness  and  pleasure. 

"  He  has  grown  very,  very  handsome,"  said 
Paulina  Karpovna  Kritzki. 

"  You  have  not  altered,  Tiet  Nikonich,"  remarked 
Raisky.  "  You  have  hardly  aged  at  all,  and  are  as 
gay,  as  fresh,  as  kind  and  amiable.  ..." 

"  Thank  God  !  there  is  nothing  worse  than  rheumatism 
the  matter  with  me,  and  my  digestion  is  no  longer 
quite  as  good  as  it  was.  That  is  age,  age.  But  how 
glad  I  am  that  you,  our  guest,  have  arrived  in  such 
good  spirits.  Tatiana  Markovna  was  anxious  about 
you.     You  will  be  staying  here  for  some  time  ?  " 

"  Of  course  you  will  spend  the  summer  with  us," 
said  Paulina  Karpovna.  "  Here  is  nature,  and  fine 
air,  and  so  many  people  are  interested  in  you." 

He  looked  at  her  askance,  and  said  nothing. 

"  Do  you  remember  me  ?  "  she  asked.  Boris's 
aunt  noticed  with  displeasure  that  Paulina  Karpovna 
was  ogling  her  nephew. 

"  No,  I  must  confess  I  forgot." 

"  Yes,  impressions  are  quickly  forgotten  in  the 
capital,"  she  said  in  a  languishing  tone.  She  looked 
him  up  and  down  and  then  added,  "  What  an  admirable 
travelling  suit." 

"  That  reminds  me  I  am  still  in  my  travelling 
clothes.     Egor  must  be  sent  for  and  must  take  my 


THE    PRECIPICE  Gq 

clothes  and  linen  out  of  the  trunk.  For  you,  Granny, 
and  for  you,  my  dear  sisters,  I  have  brought  some 
small  things  for  remembrance." 

Marfinka  grew  crimson  with  pleasure. 

"  Granny,  where  are  you  going  to  put  me  up  ?  " 

"  The  house  belongs  to  you.  Where  you  will," 
she  returned  coldly. 

"  Don't  be  angry.  Granny,"  he  laughed.  "  It 
won't  happen  twice." 

"  You  may  laugh,  you  may  laugh,  Boris  Pavlovich. 
Here,  in  the  presence  of  our  guests,  I  tell  you  you 
have  behaved  badly.  You  have  hardly  put  your  nose 
inside  the  house,  and  straightway  vanish.  That  is 
an  insult  to  your  Grandmother." 

"  Surely,  Granny,  we  shall  be  together  every  day. 
I  have  been  visiting  an  old  friend,  and  we  forgot  our- 
selves in  talking." 

"  Cousin  Boris  did  not  do  it  on  purpose,  Granny," 
said  Marfinka.     "  Leonti  Ivanovich  is  so  good." 

"  Please  be  silent  when  you  are  not  addressed. 
You  are  too  young  to  contradict  your  Grandmother, 
who  knows  what  she  is  saying." 

Smilingly  Marfinka  drew  back  into  her  corner. 

"  No  doubt  Juliana  Andreevna  was  able  to  entertain 
you  better,  and  knows  better  than  I  how  to  entertain 
a  Petersburger.     What  friccassee  did  she  give  you  ? 
asked  his  aunt,  not  without  a  little  real  curiosity. 

"  Vermicelli  soup,  pastry  with  cabbage,  then  beef 
and  potatoes." 

Tatiana  Markovna  laughed  ironically,  "  Vermicelli 
soup  and  beef  !  " 

"  And  groats  in  the  pan.  ..." 

"  It's  a  long  time  since  you  tasted  such  delicacies." 

"  Excellent  dishes,"  said  Tiet  Nikonich  kindly, 
"  but  heavy  for  the  digestion." 

"  To-morrow,  Marfinka,"  said  the  old  lady,  "  we 
will  entertain  our  guest  with  a  gosling,  pickled  pork, 
carrots,  and  perhaps  with  a  goose." 

"  A  goose,  stuffed  with  groats,  would  be  acceptable," 
put  in  Raisky. 

"  Indigestible  !  "   protested   Tiet    Nikonich.     "  The 


68  THE    PRECIPICE 

best  is  a  light  soup,  with  pearl  barley,  a  cutlet,  pastries 
and  jelly  ;  that  is  the  proper  midday  meal," 

"  But  I  should  like  groats." 

"  Do  you  like  mushrooms  too,  Cousin  ?  "  asked 
Marfinka.     "  Because  we  have  so  many." 

"  Rather  1  Can't  we  have  them  for  supper  to- 
night ?  " 

In  spite  of  Tiet  Nikonich's  caution  against  this 
heavy  food,  Tatiana  Markovna  sent  Marfinka  to  Peter 
and  to  the  cook  to  order  mushrooms  for  supper. 

"  If  there  is  any  champagne  in  the  cellar.  Granny,  let 
us  have  a  bottle  up.  Tiet  Nikonich  and  I  would  like 
to  drink  your  health.     Isn't  that  so,  Tiet  Nikonich  ?  " 

"  Yes,  to  celebrate  your  arrival,  though  mushrooms 
and  champagne  are  indigestible." 

"  Tell  the  cook  to  bring  champagne  on  ice,  Marfinka," 
said  the  old  lady. 

"  Ce  que  femme  veut,"  said  Tiet  Nikonich  amiably, 
with  a  slight  bow. 

"  Supper  is  a  special  occasion,  but  one  ought  to  dine 
at  home  too.  You  have  vexed  your  Grandmother  by 
going  out  on  the  very  day  of  your  return." 

"  Ah,  Tatiana  Markovna,"  sighed  PauHna  Karpovna, 
"  our  ways  here  are  so  bourgeois,  but  in  the 
capital.  ..." 

The  old  lady's  eyes  blazed,  as  she  pointed  to  the 
wall  where  hung  the  portraits  of  Raisky's  and  the 
young  girls'  parents,  and  exclaimed  :  "  There  was 
nothing  bourgeois  about  those,  Paulina  Karpovna." 

"  Granny,"  said  Raisky,  "  let  us  allow  one  another 
absolute  freedom.  I  am  now  making  up  for  my 
absence  at  midday,  and  shall  be  here  all  night.  But 
I  can't  tell  where  I  shall  dine  to-morrow,  or  where  I 
shall  sleep." 

Paulina  Karpovna  could  not  refrain  from  applauding, 
but  his  aunt  looked  at  him  with  amazement,  and 
inquired  if  he  were  really  a  gipsy. 

"  Monsieur  Raisky  is  a  poet,  and  poets  are  as  free 
as  air,"  remarked  Paulina  Karpovna.  Again  she 
made  play  with  her  eyes,  shifted  the  pointed  toes  of 
her  shoes  in  an  effort  to  arouse  Raisky's  attention. 


THE    PRECIPICE  69 

The  more  she  twisted  and  turned,  the  more  icy  was 
his  indifference,  for  her  presence  made  an  uncomfortable 
impression  on  him.  Marfinka  observed  the  by-play 
and  smiled  to  herself, 

"  You  have  two  houses,  land,  peasants,  silver  and 
glass,  and  talk  of  wandering  about  from  one  shelter 
to  another  like  a  beggar,  like  Markushka,  the  vagrant." 

"  Markushka  again  !  I  must  certainly  make  his 
acquaintance," 

"  No,  don't  do  that  and  add  to  your  Grandmother's 
anxieties.     If  you  see  him,  make  your  escape," 

"  But  why  ?  " 

"  He  will  lead  you  astray." 

"  That's  of  no  consequence.  Grandmother.  It  looks 
as  if  he  were  an  interesting  individual,  doesn't  it, 
Tiet  Nikonich  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  riddle  to  everybody,"  Tiet  Nikonich 
answered  with  a  smile.  "  He  must  have  gone  astray 
very  early  in  life,  but  he  has  apparently  good  brains 
and  considerable  knowledge,  and  might  have  been  a 
useful  member  of  society." 

Paulina  Karpovna  turned  her  head  away,  and 
dismissed  Mark  with  the  criticism,  "  No  manners." 

"  Brains  !  You  bought  his  brains  for  three  hundred 
roubles.  Has  he  repaid  them  ?  "  asked  Tatiana 
Markovna. 

"  I  did  not  remind  him  of  his  debt.  But  to  me  he 
is,  for  the  matter  of  that,  almost  polite." 

"  That  is  to  say  he  does  not  strike  you,  or  shoot  in 
your  direction.  Just  imagine,  Boris,  that  he  nearly 
shot  Niel  Andreevich." 

"  His  dogs  tore  my  train,"  complained  Paulina 
Karpovna. 

"  Did  he  never  visit  you  unceremoniously  at  dinner 
again  ?  "  Tatiana  Markovna  asked  Tiet  Nikonich. 

"  No,  you  don't  like  me  to  receive  him,  so  I  refuse 
him  admission.  He  once  came  to  me  at  night,"  he 
went  on,  addressing  Raisky,  "  He  had  been  out 
hunting,  and  had  eaten  nothing  for  twenty-four  hours. 
I  gave  him  food,  and  we  passed  the  time  very 
pleasantly." 


70  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  Pleasantly !  "  exclaimed  Tatiana  Markovna. 
"  How  can  you  say  such  things  ?  If  he  came  to  me 
at  that  hour,  I  would  settle  him.  No,  Boris  Pavlovich, 
live  like  other  decent  people.  Stay  with  us,  have 
dinner  with  us,  go  out  with  us,  keep  suspicious  people 
at  a  distance,  see  how  I  administer  your  estate,  and 
find  fault  if  I  do  anything  wrong." 

"  That  is  so  monotonous,  Grandmother.  Let  us 
rather  live  each  one  after  his  own  ideas  and 
inclinations." 

"  You  are  an  exception,"  sighed  his  aunt. 

"  No,  Grandmother,  it  is  you  who  are  an  exceptional 
woman.     Why  should  we  bother  about  one  another." 

"  To  please  your  Grandmother." 

"  Why  don't  you  want  to  please  your  Grandson  ? 
You  are  a  despot.  Grandmother." 

"  A  despot  !  Boris  Pavlovich,  I  have  waited 
anxiously  for  you,  I  have  hardly  slept,  have  tried  to 
have  everything  as  you  liked  it." 

"  But  you  did  all  that  because  activity  is  a  pleasure 
to  you.  All  this  care  and  trouble  is  a  pleasant  stimu- 
lant, keeps  you  busy.  If  Markushka  came  to  you,  you 
would  receive  him  in  the  same  fashion." 

"  You  are  right,  Cousin,"  broke  in  Marfinka. 
"  Grandmother  is  kindness  itself,  but  she  tries  to 
disguise  it." 

"  Don't  give  your  opinion  when  it  is  not  asked. 
She  contradicts  her  Grandmother  only  when  you  are 
here,  Boris  Pavlovich  ;  at  other  times  she  is  modest 
enough.  And  now  the  ideas  she  suddenly  takes  into 
her  head.     I  ?  entertain  Markushka  !  " 

"  You  did  as  you  pleased,"  continued  Raisky.  "  And 
then  when  it  entered  my  head  too  to  do  as  I  pleased, 
I  disturbed  your  arrangements  and  made  a  breach 
in  your  despotism.  Isn't  that  so.  Granny  ?  And 
now  kiss  me,  and  we  will  give  one  another  full  liberty," 

"  What  a  strange  boy  ?  Do  you  hear,  Tiet 
Nikonich,  what  nonsense  he  talks." 

On  that  evening  Tatiana  Markovna  and  Raisky 
concluded,  if  not  peace,  at  least  a  truce.  She  was 
assured  that  Boris  loved  and  esteemed  her  ;  she  was. 


THE    PRECIPICE  71 

in  truth,  easily  convinced.  After  supper  Raisky 
unpacked  his  trunk,  and  brought  down  his  gifts  ;  for 
his  aunt,  a  few  pounds  of  excellent  tea,  of  which  she 
was  a  connoisseur,  a  coffee  machine  of  a  new  kind,  with 
a  coffee-pot,  and  a  dark  brown  silk  dress  ;  bracelets 
with  monograms  for  his  cousins  ;  and  for  Tiet  Nikonich 
vest  and  hose  of  Samian  leather,  as  his  aunt  had 
'desired. 

Tatiana  Markovna,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  sat 
down  beside  him,  and  putting  her  hand  on  his  shoulder 
said,   "  And  you  remembered   me  ?  " 

"  Whom  else  should  I  remember  ?  You  are  my 
nearest  and  dearest,  Grandmother." 

When  Tiet  Nikonich  and  Paulina  Karpovna  took 
leave,  the  lady  said  that  she  had  left  orders  with  no  one 
to  fetch  her,  and  that  she  hoped  someone  would 
accompany  her,  looking  towards  Raisky  as  she  spoke. 
Tiet  Nikonich  expressed  himself  ready  to  see  her  home. 

"  Egorka  could  have  taken  her,"  whispered  Tatiana 
Markovna.  "  Why  didn't  she  stay  at  home  ;  she  was 
not  invited." 

■'  Thank  you,  thank  you,"  said  Paulina  Karpovna 
to  Raisky  as  she  passed  him. 

"  What  for  ?  "  asked  Raisky  in  amazement. 

"  For  the  pleasant,  witty  conversation,  although 
it  was  not  directed  to  me.  What  pleasure  it  gave 
me!" 

"  A  practical  conversation  about  groats,  a  goose, 
and  a  quarrel  with  Grandmother." 

"  Ah,  I  understand,"  she  continued,  "  but  I  caught 
two  glances,  which  were  intended  for  me,  confess  they 
were.     I  am  filled  with  hope  and  expectation." 

As  she  went  out  Raisky  asked  Marfinka  what  she 
was  talking  about. 

"  She's  always  like  that,"  laughed  Marfinka. 

Tatiana  Markovna  followed  Raisky  to  his  room, 
smoothed  the  sheets  of  his  bed  once  more,  drew  the 
curtains  so  that  the  sun  should  not  awaken  him  in  the 
morning,  felt  the  feather  bed  to  test  its  softness,  and 
had  a  jug  of  water  placed  on  the  table  beside  him. 
She  came  "back  three  times  to  see  if  he  were  asleep  or 


72  THE    PRECIPICE 

wanted  anything.  Touched  by  so  much  kindly 
thought  he  recognised  that  his  grandmother's  activity 
was  not  only  exerted  to  gratify  herself. 


CHAPTER  IX 

The  days  passed  quietly  by.  Every  morning  the  sun 
climbed  up  through  the  blue  air,  and  lighted  up  the 
Volga  and  its  banks.  At  midday  the  snowy  clouds 
crept  up,  often  piled  one  on  another  until  the  blue  sky 
was  hidden,  and  the  cooling  rain  fell  on  woods  and 
fields  ;  then  once  more  the  clouds  stole  away  before 
the  approach  of  the  warm,  pleasant  evening. 

Life  at  Malinovka  passed  just  as  peacefully.  The 
naivete  of  the  surroundings  had  not  yet  lost  its  charm 
for  Raisky.  The  sunshine  insinuating  itself  every- 
where, his  aunt's  kind  face,  Marfinka's  friendliness, 
and  the  willing  attention  of  the  servants  made  up  a 
pleasant,  friendly  environment.  He  even  felt  pleasure 
in  the  watchful  guardianship  that  his  aunt  exercised 
over  him  ;  he  smiled  when  she  preached  order  to  him, 
warned  him  of  crime  and  temptation,  reproached  him 
for  his  gipsy  tendencies  and  tried  to  lead  him  to  a 
definite  plan  of  life. 

He  liked  Tiet  Nikonich,  and  saw  in  his  courtesy  and 
his  extreme  good  manners,  his  care  for  his  health,  and 
the  universal  esteem  and  affection  in  which  he  was 
held,  a  survival  from  the  last  century.  When  he  felt 
very  good  tempered  he  found  even  Paulina  Karpovna's 
eccentricities  amusing.  She  had  induced  him  to  lunch 
with  her  one  day,  when  she  assured  him  that  she  was 
not  indifferent  to  him,  and  that  he  himself  was  on 
the  eve  of  returning  her  sentiments  ! 

The  even,  monotonous  life  lulled  him  like  a  cradle 
song.  He  wrote  idly  at  his  novel,  strengthened  a 
situation  here,  grouped  a  scene  there,  or  accentuated 
a  character.  He  watched  his  aunt,  Leonti  and  his  wife, 
and   Marfinka,    or  looked   at  the   villages   and   fields 


THE    PRECIPICE  73 

lying  in  an  enchanted  sleep  along  the  banks  of  the 
Volga.  In  this  ocean  of  silence  he  caught  notes  which 
he  could  interpret  in  terms  of  music,  and  determined, 
in  his  abundant  leisure,  to  pursue  the  subject. 

One  day,  after  a  lonely  walk  along  the  shore,  he 
climbed  the  cliff,  and  passed  Koslov's  house.  Seeing 
that  the  windows  were  lighted,  he  was  going  up  to  the 
door,  when  suddenly  he  heard  someone  climb  over  the 
fence  and  jump  down  into  the  garden.  Standing  in 
the  shadow  of  the  fence,  Raisky  hesitated.  He  was 
afraid  to  sound  the  alarm  until  he  knew  whether  it 
was  a  thief  or  an  admirer  of  Juliana  Andreevna's,  some 
Monsieur  Charles  or  other.  However,  he  decided  to 
pursue  the  intruder,  and  promptly  climbed  the  fence 
and  followed  him.  The  man  stopped  before  a  window 
and  hammered  on  the  pane. 

"  That  is  no  thief,  possibly  Mark,"  thought  Raisky. 
He  was  right. 

"  Philosopher,  open  I  Quick  !  "  cried  the  intruder. 

"  Go  round  to  the  entrance,"  said  Leonti's  voice 
dully  through  the  glass. 

"  To  the  entrance,  to  wake  the  dog  !     Open  I  " 

"  Wait  !  "  said  Leonti,  and  as  he  opened  the  window 
Mark  swung  himself  into  the  room. 

"  Who  is  that  behind  you.  Whom  have  you  brought 
with  you  ?  "  asked  Leonti  in  terror. 

"  No  one.  Do  you  imagine  there's  a  ghost.  Ah  ! 
there  is  someone  scrambling  up." 

"  Boris,  you  ?  How  did  you  happen  to  arrive  to- 
gether," he  exclaimed  as  Raisky  sprang  into  the  room. 

Mark  cast  a  hasty  glance  on  Boris  and  turned  to 
Leonti.  "  Give  me  another  pair  of  trousers.  Have 
you  any  wine  in  the  house  ?  " 

"  What's  the  matter,  and  where  have  you  been  ?  " 
asked  Leoni  suddenly,  who  had  just  noticed  that 
Mai^,  was  covered  "up  to  the  waist  with  wet 
and  slime. 

"  Give  me  another  pair  of  trousers  quick,"  said 
Mark  impatiently.  "  What  is  the  good  of  chattering  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  wine,  because  we  drank  it  all  at  dinner, 
when  Monsieur  Charles  was  our  guest." 


74  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  Where  do  you  keep  your  clothes  ? 

"  My  wife  is  asleep  and  I  don't  know  ;  you  must 
ask  Avdotya." 

"  Fool  !  I  will  find  them  myself  !  " 

He  took  a  light,  and  went  into  the  next  room. 

"  You  see  what  he  is  like,"  sighed  Leonti,  addressing 
Raisky. 

After  about  ten  minutes,  Mark  returned  with  the 
trousers  and  Leonti  questioned  him  as  to  how  he  had 
got  wet  through. 

"  I  was  crossing  the  Volga  in  a  fishing-boat.  The 
ass  of  a  fisherman  fell  asleep,  and  brought  us  right  up 
into  the  reeds  by  the  island,  and  we  had  to  get  out 
among  the  reeds  to  extricate  the  boat. 

Without  taking  any  heed  of  Raisky,  he  changed 
his  trousers  and  sat  down  with  his  feet  drawn  up 
under  him  in  the  great  armchair,  so  that  his  knees 
were  on  a  level  with  his  face,  and  he  supported  his 
bearded  chin  upon  them. 

Raisky  observed  him  silently.  Mark  was  twenty- 
seven,  built  as  if  his  muscles  were  iron,  and  w^ell  pro- 
portioned ;  a  thick  mane  of  light  brown  hair  framed 
his  pale  face  with  its  high  arched  forehead,  and  fell 
in  long  locks  on  his  neck.  The  full  beard  was  paler 
in  colour.  His  open,  bold,  irregular,  rather  thin  face 
was  illuminated  every  now  and  then  by  a  smile — of 
which  it  was  hard  to  read  the  meaning  ;  one  could 
not  tell  whether  it  spelt  vexation,  mockery  or  pleasure. 
His  grey  eyes  could  be  bold  and  commanding,  but  for 
the  most  part  wore  a  cold  expression  of  contempt.  Tied 
up  in  a  knot  as  he  was,  he  now  sat  motionless  with 
staring  eyes,  stirring  neither  hand  nor  foot. 

There  was  something  restless  and  watchful  in  the 
motionless  attitude,  as  in  that  of  a  dog  apparently 
at  rest,  but  ready  to  spring. 

Suddenly  his  eyes  gleamed,  and  he  turned  to  Raisky. 
"  You   will   have   brought   some  good  cigars  from 
St.  Petersburg,"  he  began  without  ceremony.     "  Give 
me  one." 

Raisky  offered  his  cigar  case,  and  reminded  Leonti 
that  he  had  not  introduced  them. 


THE    PRECIPICE  75 

"  What  need  is  there  of  introduction  !  You  came 
in  by  the  same  way,  and  both  know  who  the  other 

9  9 

IS. 

"  Words  of  wisdom  from  the  scholar  !  "  ejaculated 
Mark. 

"  That  same  Mark  of  whom  I  wrote  to  you,  don't 
you  remember  1  "  said  Leonti. 

"  Wait^  I  will  introduce  myself,"  cried  Mark,  spring- 
ing from  the  easy  chair.  He  posed  ceremoniously, 
and  bowed. 

"  I  have  the  honour  to  present  myself,  Mark  Volokov, 
under  police  surveillance,  involuntary  citizen  of  this 
town." 

He  puffed  away  at  his  cigar,  and  again  rolled  himself 
up  in  a  ball. 

"  What  do  you  do  with  yourself  here  ?  "  asked 
■Raisky. 

"  I  think,  as  you  do." 

"  You  love  art,  are  perhaps  an  artist  ?  " 

"  And  are  you  an  artist  ?  " 

"  Painter  and  musician,"  broke  in  Leonti,  "  and 
now  he  is  writing  a  novel.  Take  care,  brother,  he 
may  put  you  in  too." 

Raisky  signed  to  him  to  be  silent. 

"  Yes,  I  am  an  artist,"  Mark  went  on,  "  but  of  a 
different  kind.  Your  Aunt  will  have  acquainted  you 
with  my  works." 

"  She  won't  hear  your  name  mentioned." 

"  There  you  have  it.  But  it  was  only  a  matter 
of  a  hundred  apples  or  so  that  I  plucked  from  over 
the  fence." 

"  The  apples  are  mine  ;  you  may  take  as  many  as 
you  like." 

"  Many  thanks.  But  why  should  I  need  your 
permission  ?  I  am  accustomed  to  do  everything  in 
this  life  without  permission.  Therefore  I  will  take 
the  apples  without  your  permission,  they  taste  better." 

"  I  was  curious  to  make  your  acquaintance.  I  hear 
so  many  tales  about  you." 

"  What  do  they  say  ?  " 

"  Little  that  is  good." 


76  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  Probably  they  tell  you  I  am  a  thief,  a  monster, 
the  terror  of  the  neighbourhood." 

"  That's  about  it." 

"  But  if  this  reputation  precedes  me,  why  should 
you  seek  my  acquaintance.  I  have  torn  your  books, 
as  no  doubt  our  friend  there  has  informed  you." 

"  There  he  is  to  the  point,"  cried  Leonti.  "  I  am 
glad  he  began  the  subject  himself.  He  is  a  good  sort 
at  the  bottom.  If  one  is  ill,  he  waits  on  one  like  a 
nurse,  runs  to  the  chemist,  and  takes  any  amount  of 
trouble.  But  the  rascal  wanders  round  and  gives  no 
one  any  peace." 

"  Don  t  chatter  so,"  interrupted  Mark. 

"  For  that  matter,"  said  Raisky,  "  everybody  does 
not  abuse  you.  Tiet  Nikonich  Vatutin,  for  instance, 
goes  out  of  his  way  to  speak  well  of  you." 

"Is  it  possible  !  The  sugar  marquis  !  I  left  him 
some  souvenirs  of  my  presence.  More  than  once  I 
have  waked  him  in  the  night  by  opening  his  bedroom 
window.  He  is  always  fussing  about  his  health,  but 
in  all  the  forty  years  since  he  came  here  no  one  remem- 
bers him  to  have  been  ill.  I  shall  never  return  the 
money  he  lent  me.  What  more  provocation  would  he 
have  ?     And  yet  he  praises  me." 

"  So  that  is  your  department  of  art,"  said  Raisky 
gaily. 

"  What  kind  of  an  artist  are  you  ?  It  is  your  turn 
to  tell  me." 

"  I  love  and  adore  beauty.  I  love  art,  draw,  and 
make  music,  and  just  now  I  am  trying  to  write  a 
great  work,  a  novel." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  see.  You  are  an  artist  of  the  kind 
we  all  are." 

"  All  ?  " 

"  With  us  Russians  everybody  is  an  artist.  They 
use  the  chisel,  paint,  strum,  write  poetry,  as  you  and 
your  like  do.  Others  drive  in  the  mornings  to  the 
courts  or  the  government  offices,  others  sit  before 
their  stalls  playing  draughts,  and  still  others  stick 
on  their  estates — Art  is  everywhere. ' ' 


THE    PRECIPICE  77 

"  Do  you  feel  no  desire  to  enter  any  of  these 
categories." 

"  I  have  tried,  but  don't  know  how  to.  What 
brought  you  here  ?  " 

'  "  I  don't  know  myself.  It  is  all  the  same  to  me 
where  I  go.  I  had  a  letter  summoning  me  here  from 
my  Aunt,  and  I  came." 

Mark  busied  himself  in  his  thoughts,  and  took  no 
further  interest  in  Raisky.  Raisky  on  the  other  hand 
examined  the  extraordinary  person  before  him  atten- 
tively, studied  the  expression  of  his  face,  followed  his 
movements,  and  tried  to  grasp  the  outline  of  a  strong 
character.  "  Thank  God,  '  he  said  to  himself,  that  I 
am  not  the  only  idle,  aimless  person  here.  In  this  man 
there  is  something  similar  ;  he  wanders  about,  reconciles 
himself  to  his  fate,  and  does  nothing.  I  at  least  draw 
and  try  to  write  my  novel,  while  he  does  nothing. 
Is  he  the  victim  of  secret  discord  like  myself  ?  Is 
he  always  struggling  between  two  fires  ?  Imagination 
striving  upward  to  the  ideal  lures  him  on  on  the  one 
hand — man,  nature  and  life  in  all  its  manifestations  ; 
on  the  other  he  is  attracted  by  a  cold,  destructive 
analysis  which  allows  nothing  to  live,  and  will  forget 
nothing,  an  analysis  that  leads  to  eternal  discontent 
and  blighting  cold.  Is  that  his  secret  ?  "  He  glanced 
at  Mark,  who  was  already  drowsing. 

"  Good-bye,  Leonti,"  he  said,  "  it's  time  I  was  going 
home." 

"  What  am  I  to  do  with  him  ?  " 

"  He  can  stay  here  all  right." 

"  Think  of  the  books.  It's  leaving  the  goat  loose 
in  the  vegetable  garden."  "  I  might  wheel  him  in  the 
armchair  into  that  dark  little  room,  and  lock  him  in," 
thought  Leonti,  "  but  if  he  woke,  he  might  pull  the 
roof  down." 

Mark  helped  him  out  of  his  dilemma  by  jumping 
to  his  feet. 

"  I  am  going  with  you,"  he  said  to  Raisky.  "It 
is  time  for  you  to  go  to  bed,  philosopher,"  he  said  to 
Leonti.     "  Don't  sit  up  at  nights.     You  have  already 


78  THE    PRECIPICE 

got  a  yellow  patch  in  your  face,  and  your  eyes  are 
hollow." 

He  put  out  the  light,  stuffed  on  his  cap,  and  leapt 
out  of  the  window.  Raisky  followed  his  example, 
and  they  went  down  the  garden  once  more,  climbed 
the  fence,  and  came  out  in  the  street. 

"  Listen,"  said  Mark.  "  I  am  hungry,  and  Leonti 
has  nothing  to  give  me.  Can  you  help  me  to  storm 
an  inn  ?  " 

"  As  far  as  I  am  concerned.  But  the  thing  can  be 
managed  without  the  application  of  force." 

"It  is  late,  and  the  inns  are  shut.  No  one  will 
open  willingly,  especially  when  it  is  known  that  I  am 
in  the  case  ;  consequently  we  must  enter  by  storm. 
We  will  call  *  Fire  !  '  and  then  they  will  open  at  once, 
and  we  can  get  in." 

"  And  be  hurled  out  into  the  street  again." 

"  There  you  are  wrong.  It  is  possible  that  I  might 
be  refused  entrance,  but  once  in,  I  remain." 

"  A  siege,  a  row  at  night.  ..." 

"  Ah,  you  are  afraid  of  the  police,"  laughed  Mark. 
"  You  are  thinking  of  what  the  Governor  would  decide 
on  in  such  a  serious  case,  what  Niel  Andreevich 
would  say,  how  the  company  would  take  it.  Now 
good-bye,  I  will  go  and  storm  my  entrance  alone." 

"  Wait,  I  have  another,  more  delightful  plan," 
said  Raisky.  "  My  Aunt  cannot,  you  say,  bear  to 
hear  your  name  ;  only  the  other  day  she  declared  she 
would  in  no  circumstances  give  you  hospitality." 

"  Well,  what  then  ?  " 

"  Come  home  with  me  to  supper,  and  stay  the  night 
with  me." 

"  That's  not  a  bad  plan.     Let  us  go." 

They  walked  in  silence,  almost  feeling  their  way 
through  the  darkness.  When  they  came  to  the  fence 
of  the  Malinovka  estate,  which  bounded  the  vegetable 
garden,  Raisky  proposed  to  climb  it. 

"  It  would  be  better,"  said  Mark,  "  to  go  by  way 
of  the  orchard  or  from  the  precipice.  Here  we  shall 
wake  the  house  and  must  make  a  circuit  in  addition. 
I  always  go  the  other  way." 


THE    PRECIPICE  79 

"  You — come — here — into  the  garden  ?  What  to 
do?  " 

"  To  get  apples." 

"  You  have  my  permission,  so  long  as  Tatiana 
Markovna  does  not  catch  you." 

"  I  shan't  be  caught  so  easily.  Look,  someone  has 
just  leaped  over  the  fence,  like  us.  Hi !  Stop  !  Don't 
try  to  hide.  Who's  there  ?  Halt  I  Raisky,  come 
and  help  me  !  " 

He  ran  forward  a  few  paces,  and  seized  someone. 

Raisky  hurried  to  the  point  from  which  voices 
were  audible,  remarking,  "  What  cat's  eyes  you  have  !  " 
The  man  who  was  held  fast  by  Mark's  strong  arms 
twisted  round  to  free  himself,  and  in  the  end  fell  to 
the  ground  and  made  for  the  fence. 

"  Catch  him,  hold  fast  !  There  is  another  sneaking 
round  in  the  vegetable  garden,"  cried  Raisky, 

Raisky  saw  dimly  a  figure  about  to  spring  down 
from  the  fence,  and  demanded  who  it  was. 

"  Sir,  let  me  go,  do  not  ruin  me  !  "  whispered  a 
woman's  voice. 

"  Is  it  you,  Marina,  what  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  Gently,  Sir.  Don't  call  me  by  name.  Savili  will 
hear,  and  will  beat  me." 

"  Off  with  you  !  No,  stop.  I  have  found  you  at 
the  right  moment.  Can  you  bring  some  supper  to 
my  room  ?  " 

"  Anything,  Sir.  Only,  for  God's  sake,  don't  betray 
me." 

"  I  won't  betray  you.  Tell  me  what  there  is  in 
the  kitchen." 

"  The  whole  supper  is  there.  As  you  did  not  come, 
no  one  ate  anything.  There  is  sturgeon  in  jelly, 
turkey,  all  on  ice," 

"  Bring  it,  and  what  about  wine  ?  " 

"  There  is  a  bottle  in  the  sideboard,  and  the  fruit 
liqueurs  are  in  Marfa  Vassilievna's  room." 

"  Be  careful  not  to  wake  her." 

"  She  sleeps  soundly.  Let  me  go  now.  Sir,  for  my 
husband  may  hear  us." 

"Run,  but  take  care  you  don't  run  into  him." 


8o  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  He  dare  not  do  anything  if  he  does  meet  me 
now.  I  shall  tell  him  that  you  have  given  me 
orders.  ..." 

Meanwhile,  Mark  had  dragged  his  man  from  hiding. 
"  Savili  Ilivich,"  the  unknown  murmured,  "  don't 
strike  me." 

"  I  ought  to  know  the  voice,"  said  Raisky. 

"  Ah  !  You  are  not  Savili  Ilivich,  Ihank  God.  I 
Sir,  I  am  the  gardener  from  over  there." 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  I  came  on  a  real  errand,  Sir.  Our  clock  has  stopped, 
and  I  came  here  to  wait  for  the  church-clock  to  strike." 

"  Devil  take  you,"  cried  Mark,  and  gave  the  man 
a  push  that  sent  him  reeling. 

The  man  sprang  over  the  ditch,  and  vanished  in 
the  darkness. 

Raisky,  meantime,  returned  to  the  main  entrance. 
He  tried  to  open  the  door,  not  wishing  to  knock  for 
fear  of  awaking  his  aunt.  "  Marina,"  he  called  in 
a  low  voice,  "  Marina,  open  1  " 

The  bolt  was  pushed  back,  Raisky  pushed  open 
the  door  with  his  foot.  Before  him  stood — he  recog- 
nised the  voice — Savili,  who  flung  himself  upon  him 
and  held  him. 

"  Wait,  my  little  dove,  I  will  make  my  reckoning 
with  you,  not  with  Marina." 

"  Take  your  hands  off,  Savili,  it  is  I." 

"  Who,  not  the  Master  ?  "  exclaimed  Savili,  loosening 
his  prisoner.  "  You  were  so  good  as  to  call  Marina  ? 
But,"  after  a  pause,  "  have  you  not  seen  her." 

"  I  had  already  asked  her  to  leave  some  supper 
for  me  and  to  open  the  door,"  he  said  untruthfully, 
by  way  of  protecting  the  unfaithful  wife.  "  She  had 
already  heard  that  I  am  here.  Now  let  my  guest 
pass,  shut  the  door,  and  go  to  bed." 

"  Yes,  Sir,"  said  Savili,  and  went  slowly  to  his 
quarters,  meeting  Marina  on  the  way. 

"  Why  aren't  you  in  bed,  you  demon  ?  "  she  cried, 
dashing  past  him.  "  You  sneak  around  at  night, 
you  might  be  twisting  the  manes  of  the  horses  like 
a  "goblin,  and  put  me  to  shame  before  the  gentry." 


THE    PRECIPICE  8i 

Marina  sped  past  light-footed  as  a  sylph,  skilfully 
balancing  dishes  and  plates  in  her  hands,  and  vanished 
into  the  dark  night.  Savili's  answer  was  a  threatening 
gesture  with  his  whip. 

Mark  was  indeed  hungry,  and  as  Raisky  showed 
no  hesitation  either,  the  sturgeon  soon  disappeared, 
and  when  Marina  came  to  clear  away  there  was  not 
much  to  take. 

"  Now  we  should  like  something  sweet,"  suggested 
Raisky, 

"  No  sweets  are  left,"  Mama  assured  them,  "  but 
I  could  get  some  preserves,  of  which  Vassilissa  has 
the  keys." 

"  Better    still    punch,"    said    Mark.     "  Have    you 
any  rum  ?  " 

"  Probably,"  she  said,  in  answer  to  an  inquiring 
glance  from  Raisky,  "  The  cook  was  given  a  bottle 
this  morning  for  a  pudding.     I  will  see." 

Marina  returned  with  a  bottle  of  rum,  a  lemon  and 
sugar,  and  then  left  the  room.  The  bowl  was  soon  in 
flames,  which  lighted  up  the  darkened  room  with  their 
pale  blue  light,  Mark  stirred  it  with  the  spoon,  while 
the  sugar  held  between  two  spoons  dripped  slowly 
into  the  bowl.     From  time  to  time  he  tasted  it. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  in  our  town  ?  "  asked 
Raisky  after  a  short  silence. 

"  About  two  years." 

"  You  must  assuredly  be  bored  ?  " 

"  I  try  to  amuse  myself,"  he  said,  pouring  out  a 
glass  for  himself  and  emptying  it.  "  Drink,"  he  said, 
pushing  a  glass  towards  Raisky. 

Raisky  drank  slowly,  not  from  inclination,  but 
out  of  politeness  to  his  guest.  "  It  must  be  essential 
for  you  to  do  something,  and  yet  you  appear  to  do 
nothing  ?  " 

"  And  what  do  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  told  you  I  am  an  artist." 

"  Show  me  proof  of  your  art." 

"  At  the  moment  I  have  nothing  except  a  trifling 
thing,  and  even  that  is  not  complete." 


82  THE    PRECIPICE 

He  rose  from  the  divan  and  uncovered  Marfinka's 
portrait. 

"  H'm,  it's  like  her,  and  good,"  declared  Mark. 
He  told  himself  that  Raisky  had  talent.  "  And  it 
would  be  excellent,  but  the  head  is  too  large  in  pro- 
portion and  the  shoulders  a  trifle  broad." 

"  He  has  a  straight  eye,"  thought  Raisky. 

"  I  like  best  the  lightly-observed  background  and 
accessories,  from  which  the  figure  detaches  itself 
light,  gay,  and  transparent.  You  have  found  the 
secret  of  Marfinka's  figure.  The  tone  suits  her  hair 
and  her  complexion." 

Raisky  recognised  that  he  had  taste  and  comprehen- 
sion, and  wondered  if  he  were  really  an  artist  in  a 
disguise. 

"  Do  you  know  Marfinka  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes." 

"  And  Vera  ?  " 

"  Vera  too." 

"  \^'here  have  you  met  my  cousins  ?  You  do 
not  come  to  the  house." 

"  At  church." 

"  At  church  ?  But  they  say  you  never  look  inside 
a  church." 

"  I  don't  exactly  remember  where  I  have  seen  them, 
in  the  village,  in  the  field." 

Raisky  concluded  his  guest  was  a  drunkard,  as  he 
drunk  down  glass  after  glass  of  punch.  Mark  guessed 
his  thoughts. 

"  You  think  it  extraordinary  that  I  should  drink. 
I  do"  it  out  of  sheer  boredom,  because  I  am  idle  and 
have  no  occupation.  But  don't  be  afraid  that  I 
shall  set  the  house  on  fire  or  miurder  anybody.  To-day 
I  am  drinking  more  than  usual  because  I  am  tired 
and  cold.     But  I  am  not  a  drunkard." 

"  It  depends  on  ourselves  whether  we  are  idle 
or  not." 

"  When  you  climbed  over  Leonti's  fence,  I  thought 
you  were  a  sensible  individual,  but  now  I  see  that  you 
belong  to  the  same  kind  of  preaching  person  as  Niel 
Andreevich,  ..." 

\ 


1 


THE    PRECIPICE  83 

"Is  it  true  that  you  fired  on  him  ?  "  asked  Raisky 
curiously. 

"  What  nonsense  !  I  fired  a  shot  among  the  pigeons 
to  empty  the  barrel  of  my  gun,  as  I  was  returnins; 
from  hunting.  He  came  up  and  shouted  that  I 
should  stop,  because  it  wa^^  sinful.  If  he  had  been 
content  with  protesting  I  should  merely  have  called 
him  a  fool,  and  there  it  would  have  ended.  But  he 
began  to  stamp  and  to  threaten,  '  I  will  have  you 
put  in  prison,  you  ruffian,  and  will  have  you  locked 
up  where  not  even  the  raven  will  bring  you  a  bone.' 
I  allowed  him  to  run  through  the  whole  gamut  of 
polite  remarks,  and  listened  calmly — and  then  I  '  took 
aim  at  him.'  " 

"  And  he  ?  " 

"  Ducked,  lost  his  stick  and  goloshes,  finally  squatted 
on  the  ground  and  whimpered  for  forgiveness.  I 
shot  into  the  air.     That's  all." 

"  A  pretty  distraction,"  commented  Raisky 
ironically. 

"  No  distraction,"  said  Mark  seriously.  "  There 
was  more  in  it,  a  badly -needed  lesson  for  the  old  boy." 

"  And  then  what  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  He  lied  to  the  Governor,  saying  that 
I  had  aimed  at  him,  but  missed.  If  I  had  been  a 
peaceful  citizen  of  the  town  I  should  have  been  thrust 
into  gaol  without  delay  ;  but  as  I  am  an  outlaw,  the 
Governor  inquired  into  the  matter  and  advised  Niel 
Andreevich  to  say  nothing.  So  that  no  enquiry 
should  be  instituted  from  St.  Petersburg  ;  they  fear 
that  like  fire." 

"  When  I  spoke  of  idleness,"  said  Raisky,  "  I  did 
not  mean  to  read  a  moral.  Yet  when  I  see  what  your 
mind,  your  abilities  and  your  education  are.   ..." 

"  What  have  you  seen  ?  That  I  can  climb  a  hedge, 
shoot  at  a  fool,  eat  and  drink  heavily  ?  "  he  asked  as 
he  drained  his  glass. 

Raisky  watched  him,  and  wondered  uneasily  how 
it  would  all  end. 

"  We  were  speaking  of  the  art  you  love  so  much," 
said  Mark. 


84  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  I  have  been  snatched  from  Art  as  if  from  my 
mother's  breast,"  sighed  Raisky,  "  but  I  shall  return 
and  shall  reach  my  goal." 

"  No,  you  will  not,"  laughed  Mark. 

"  Why  not,  don't  you  believe  in  firm  intentions  ?  " 

"  How  should  I  do  otherwise,  since  they  say  the 
way  to  Hell  is  paved  with  them.  No,  you  will  do 
little  more  than  you  have  accomplished  already — that 
is  very  little.  We,  and  many  like  us,  simply  rot  and 
die.  The  only  wonder  is  that  you  don't  drink. 
That  is  how  our  artists,  half  men,  usually  end  their 
careers." 

Smiling  he  thrust  a  glass  towards  his  host,  but 
emptied  it  himself.  Raisky  concluded  that  he  was 
cold,  malicious  and  heartless.  But  the  last  remark 
had  disturbed  him.  Was  he  really  only  half  a  man  ? 
Had  he  not  a  firm  determination  to  reach  the  goal 
he  had  set  before  himself  ?  He  was  only  making  fun 
of  him. 

"  You  see  that  I  don't  drink  away  my  talents," 
he  remarked. 

"  Yes,  that  is  an  improvement,  a  step  forward. 
You  haven't  succumbed  to  society,  to  perfumes, 
gloves  and  dancing.  Drinking  is  a  different  thing. 
It  goes  to  one  man's  head,  another  is  susceptible  to 
passion.  Tell  me,  do  you  easily  take  fire  ?  Ah  !  I 
have  touched  the  spot," he  went  on  as  Raisky  coloured. 
"  That  belongs  to  the  artistic  temperament,  to  which 
nothing  is  foreign — Nihil  humanum,  etc.  One  loves 
wine,  another  women,  a  third  cards.  The  artists 
have  usurped  all  these  things  for  themselves.  Now 
kindly  explain  what  I  am." 

"  What  you  are.  Why,  an  artist,  without  doubt, 
who  on  a  first  acquaintance  will  drink,  storm  public 
houses,  shoot,  borrow  money " 

"  And  not  repay  it.  Bravo  !  an  admirable  description. 
To  justify  your  last  remark  and  prove  its  truth  beyond 
doubt,  lend  me  a  hundred  roubles.  I  will  never  pay 
them  back  unless  you  and  I  should  have  exchanged 
our  respective  situations  in  life." 

**  You  say  that  in  jest  ?  " 


THE    PRECIPICE  85 

"  Not  at  all.  The  market  gardener,  with  whom 
I  live,  feeds  me.     He  has  no  money,  nor  have  I." 

Raisky  shrugged  his  shoulders,  felt  in  his  pockets, 
produced  his  pocket  book  and  laid  some  notes  on  the 
table. 

"  You  have  counted  wrong,"  said  Mark.  "  There 
are  only  eighty  here." 

"  I  have  no  more  money  on  me.  My  aunt  keeps 
my  money,  and  I  will  send  you  the  balance  to-morrow." 

"  Don't  forget.  This  is  enough  for  the  moment 
and  now  I  want  to  sleep." 

"  My  bed  is  at  your  disposal,  and  I  will  sleep  on 
the  divan.     You  are  my  guest." 

"  I  should  be  worse  than  a  Tatar  if  I  did  that," 
murmured  Mark,  already  half  asleep.  "  Lie  down  on 
your  bed.     Anything  will  do  for  me." 

In  a  few  minutes  he  was  sleeping  the  sleep  of  a 
tired,  satisfied  and  drunken  man  worn  out  with  cold 
and  weariness.  Raisky  went  to  the  window,  raised  the 
curtain,  and  looked  out  into  the  dark,  starlit  night. 
Now  and  then  a  flame  hovered  over  the  unemptied 
bowl,  flared  up  and  lighted  up  the  room  for  a  moment. 
There  was  a  gentle  tap  on  the  door. 

"  Who  is  there  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I,  Borushka.  Open  quickly.  What  are  you  doing 
there,"  said  the  anxious  voice  of  Tatiana  Markovna. 

Raisky  opened  the  door,  and  saw  his  aunt  before 
him,  like  a  white-clad  ghost. 

"  What  is  going  on  here.  I  saw  a  light  through 
the  window,  and  thought  you  were  asleep.  What 
is  burning  in  the  bowl." 

"  Rum." 

"  Do  you  drink  punch  at  night  ?  "  she  whispered, 
looking  first  at  him,  then  at  the  bowl  in  amazement. 

"  I  am  a  sinner,  Grandmother.     Sometimes  I  drink." 

"  And  who  is  lying  there  asleep  ?  "  she  asked  in 
new  terror  as  she  gazed  on  the  sleeping  Mark. 

"  Gently,  Grandmother,  don't  wake  him.  It  is 
Mark." 

"  Mark  !  Shall  I  send  for  the  police  !  What  have 
you  to  do  with  him  ?     You  have  been  drinking  punch 


86  THE    PRECIPICE 

at  night  with  Mark  ?  What  has  come  over  you,  Boris 
Pavlovich  ?  " 

"  I  found  him  at  Leonti's,  we  were  both  hungry. 
So  I  brought  him  here  and  we  had  supper." 

"  Why  didn't  you  call  me.  Who  served  you,  and 
what  did  they  bring  you  ? 

"  Marina  did  everything." 

"  A  cold  meal.     Ah,  Borushka,  you  shame  me," 

"  We  had  plenty  to  eat." 

"  Plenty,  without  a  single  hot  dish,  without  dessert. 
I  will  send  up  some  preserves." 

"  No,  no  ...  if  you  want  anything,  I  can  wake 
Mark  and  ask  him." 

"  Good  heavens  !  I  am  in  my  night-jacket," 
she  whispered,  and  drew  back  to  the  door.  "  How 
he  sleeps,  all  rolled  up  like  a  little  dog.  I 
am  ashamed,  Boris  Pavlovich,  as  if  we  had  no  beds 
in  the  house.     But  put  out  the  flames.     No  dessert  !  " 

Raisky  extinguished  the  blue  flame  and  embraced 
the  old  lady.  She  made  the  sign  of  the  Cross  over 
him,  looked  round  the  room  once  more,  and  went  out 
on  tiptoe.  Just  as  he  was  going  to  lie  down  again 
there  was  another  tap  on  the  door,  he  opened 
it  immediately. 

Marina  entered,  bearing  a  jar  of  preserves  ;  then 
she  brought  a  bed  and  two  pillows.  "  The  mistress 
sent   them,"  she  said. 

Raisky  laughed  heartily,  and  was  almost  moved  to 
tears. 


CHAPTER  X 

Early  in  the  morning  a  slight  noise  wakened  Raisky, 
and  he  sat  up  to  see  Mark  disappear  through  the 
window.  He  does  not  like  the  straight  way,  he 
thought,  and  stepped  to  the  window.  Mark  was  going 
through  the  park,  and  vanished  under  the  thick  trees 
on  the  top  of  the  precipice.     As  he  had  no  inclination 


THE    PRECIPICE  87 

to  go  to  bed  again,  he  put  on  a  light  overcoat  and 
went  down  into  the  park  too,  thinking  to  bring  Mark 
back,  but  he  was  already  far  below  on  the  bank  of  the 
Volga.  Raisky  remained  standing  at  the  top  of  the 
precipice.  The  sun  had  not  yet  risen,  but  his  rays 
were  already  gilding  the  hill  tops,  the  dew  covered 
fields  were  glistening  in  the  distance,  and  the  cool 
morning  wind  breathed  freshness.  The  air  grew 
rapidly  warmer,  giving  promise  of  a  hot  day.  Raisky 
walked  on  in  the  park,  and  the  rain  began  to  fall. 
The  birds  sang,  as  they  darted  in  all  directions  seekmg 
their  morning  meal,  and  the  bees  and  the  humble-bees 
hummed  over  the  flowers.  A  feeling  of  discomfort 
came  over  Raisky.  He  had  a  long  day  before  him, 
with  the  impressions  of  yesterday  and  the  day  before 
still  strong  upon  him.  He  looked  down  on  the  un- 
changing prospect  of  smiling  nature,  the  woods  and 
the  melancholy  Volga,  and  felt  the  caress  of  the  same 
cooling  breeze.  He  went  forward  over  the  courtyard, 
taking  no  notice  of  the  greetings  of  the  servants  or 
the  friendly  advances  of  the  dogs. 

He  intended  to  go  back  to  his  room  to  turn  the 
tenseness  of  his  mood  to  account  as  an  artistic  motive 
in  his  novel  ;  but  as  he  hurried  past  the  old  house, 
he  noticed  that  the  door  was  half  open,  and  went  in. 
Since  his  arrival  he  had  only  been  here  for  a  moment 
with  Marfinka,  and  had  glanced  into  Vera's  room. 
Now  it  occurred  to  him  to  make  a  closer  inspectiom'- 
Passing  through  his  old  bedroom  and  two  or  three 
other  rooms,  he  came  into  the  corner  room,  then  with  an 
expression  of  extreme  astonishment  in  his  face  he 
stood  still. 

Leaning  on  the  window-sill,  so  that  her  profile  was 
turned  towards  him,  stood  a  girl  of  two  or  three  and 
twenty,  looking  with  strained  curiosity,  as  if  she  were 
following  some  one  with  her  eyes,  down  to  the  bank 
of  the  Volga.  He  was  startled  by  the  white,  almost 
pallid  face  under  the  dark  hair,  the  velvet-black  eyes 
with  their  long  lashes.  Her  face,  still  looking  anxiously 
into  the  distance,  gradually  assumed  an  indifferent 
expression.     The  girl  glanced  hastily  over  park  and 


88  THE    PRECIPICE 

courtyard,  then  as  she  turned  and  caught    sight  of 
him,  shrank  back. 

"  Sister  Vera  !  "  he  cried. 

Her  face  cleared,  and  her  eyes  remained  fixed  on  him 
with  an  expression  of  modest  curiosity,  as  he 
approached  to  kiss  her. 

She  drew  back  ahnost  imperceptibly,  turning  her 
head  a  little  so  that  his  lips  touched  her  cheek,  not  her 
mouth,  and  they  sat  down  opposite  the  window. 

Impatient  to  hear  her  voice  he  began  :  "  How 
eagerly  I  have  expected  you,  and  you  have  stayed 
away  so  long." 

"  Marina  told  me  yesterday  that  you  were  here." 

Her  voice,  though  not  so  clear  as  Marfinka's,  was 
still  fresh  and  youthful. 

"  Grandmother  wanted  to  send  you  word  of  my 
arrival,  but  I  begged  her  not  to  tell  you.  When  did 
you  return  ?     No  one  told  me  you  were  here." 

"  Yesterday,  after  supper.  Grandmother  and  my 
sister  don't  know  I  am  here  yet.  No  one  saw  me  but 
Marina." 

She  threw  some  white  garments  that  lay  beside  her 
into  the  next  room,  pushed  aside  a  bundle  and  brought 
a  table  to  the  window.  Then  she  sat  down  again, 
with  a  manner  quite  unconstrained,  as  if  she  were 
alone. 

"  I  have  prepared  coffee,"  she  said,  "  Will  you 
drink  it  with  me.  It  will  be  a  long  time  before  it  is 
ready  at  the  other  house.     Marfinka  gets  up  late." 

"  I  should  like  it  very  much,"  he  replied,  following 
her  with  his  eyes.  Like  a  true  artist  he  abandoned 
himself  to  the  new  and  unexpected  impression. 

"  You  must  have  forgotten  me,  Vera,"  he  remarked 
after  a  pause,  with  an  affectionate  note  in  his  voice. 

"  No,"  she  said,  as  he  poured  out  the  coffee,  "  I 
remember  everything.  How  was  it  possible  to  forget 
you  when  Grandmother  was  for  ever  talking  about  you  ?" 

He  would  have  liked  to  ask  her  question  after 
question,  but  they  crowded  into  his  brain  in  so  dis- 
connected a  fashion  that  he  did  not  know  where  to 
begin. 


THE    PRECIPICE  89 

"  I  have  already  been  in  your  room.  Forgive  the 
intrusion,"  he  said. 

"  There  is  nothing  remarkable  here,"  she  said 
hastily,  looking  around  as  if  something  not  intended 
for  strange  eyes  might  be  lying  about. 

"  Nothing  remarkable,  quite  right.  What  book  is 
that  ?  " 

He  put  out  his  hand  for  the  book  under  her  hand  ; 
she  rapidly  drew  it  away  and  put  it  behind  her  on  the 
shelf. 

"  You  hide  it  as  you  used  to  hide  the  currants  in 
your  mouth.     But  show  it  me. 

"  Do  you  read  books  that  may  not  be  seen  ?  "  he 
said,  laughingly  as  she  shook  her  head. 

"  Heavens  1  how  lovely  she  is  1  "  he  thought.  And 
he  wondered  how  such  beauty  could  have  lost  its  way 
in  such  an  outlandish  place.  He  wanted  to  touch 
some  answering  chord  in  her  heart,  wanted  her  to 
reveal  something  of  her  feelings,  but  his  efforts  only 
produced  a  greater  coldness. 

"  My  library  was  in  your  hands  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  later  Leonid  Ivanovich  took  it  over, 
and  I  was  glad  to  be  relieved  of  the  charge." 

"  But  he  must  have  left  you  a  few  books  ?  " 

"  Oh  no  !  I  read  what  I  liked,  and  then  surrendered 
the  books." 

"  What  did  you  like  ?  " 

She  looked  out  of  the  window  as  she  answered  :  "  A 
great  many.     I  have  really  forgotten." 

"  Do  you  care  for  music  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  inquiringly  before  she  said, 
"  Does  that  mean  that  I  play  myself,  or  like  to  hear 
music  ?  " 

"  Both." 

"  I  don't  play,  but  I  Hke  to  hear  music,  but  what 
music  is  there  here  ?  " 

"  But  what  are  your  particular  tastes  ?  "  Again 
she  looked  at  him  inquiringly.  "  Do  you  like  house- 
keeping, or  needlework.     Do  you  do  embroidery  ?  " 

"  No,  Marfinka  likes  and  understands  all  those 
things." 


90  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  But  what  do  you  like  ?  A  book  only  occupies 
you  for  a  short  time.  You  say  that  you  don't  do 
any  needlework,  but  you  must  like  something,  flowers 
perhaps." 

"  Flowers,  yes,  in  the  garden,  but  not  in  the 
house  where  they  have  to  be  tended.  I  love  this 
corner  of  God's  earth,  the  Volga,  the  precipice,  the 
forest  and  the  garden — these  are  the  things  I  love," 
she  said,  looking  contentedly  at  the  prospect  from  the 
window. 

"  What  ties  bind  you  to  this  little  place  ?  " 

She  gave  no  answer,  but  her  eyes  wandered  lovingly 
over  the  trees  and  the  rising  ground,  and  finally  rested 
on  the  dazzling  mirror  of  water. 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  place,"  admitted  Raisky,  "  but 
the  view,  the  river  bank,  the  hills,  the  forest — all 
these  things  would  became  tedious  if  they  were  not 
inhabited  by  living  creatures  which  share  our  feelings 
and  exchange  ideas  with  us." 

She  was  silent. 

"  Vera  !  "  said  Raisky  after  a  pause. 

"  Ah  !  "  she  said,  as  if  she  had  only  just  heard 
his  remarks,  "  I  don't  live  alone  ;  Grandmother, 
Marfinka.  ..." 

"As  if  you  shared  your  sympathies  and  thoughts 
with  them.  But  perhaps  you  have  a  congenial  spirit 
here  ?  " 

Vera  nodded  her  head. 

"  Who  is  that  happy  individual  ?  "  he  stammered, 
urged  on  by  envy,  terror  and  jealousy. 

"  The  pope's  wife  with  whom  I  have  been  stopping," 
said  Vera  as  she  rose  and  shook  the  crumbs  from  her 
apron.     "  You  must  have  heard  of  her." 

"  The  pope's  wife  !  "  he  repeated. 

"  When  she  is  here  with  me  we  both  admire  the 
Volga,  we  are  never  tired  of  talking  about  it.  Will 
3^ou  have  some  more  coffee  ?  May  I  have  it  cleared 
away  ? 

"  The  pope's  wife,"  he  repeated  thoughtfully, 
without  hearing  her  question,  and  the  smile  on  her 
lips  passed  unobserved. 


THE    PRECIPICE  91 

"  Will  you  have  some  more  coffee  ?  " 

"  No.  Do  you  care  for  Grandmother  and  Marfinka  ?  " 

"  Whom  else  should  I  hold  dear  ?  " 

"  Well — me,"  he  retorted,  jesting. 

"  You  too,"  she  said,  looking  gaily  at  him,  "  if 
you  deserve  it." 

"  How  does  one  earn  this  good  fortune  ?  "  he  asked 
ironically. 

"  Love,  they  say,  is  blind,  gives  herself  without 
any  merit,  is  indeed  blind,"  she  rejoined. 

"  Yet  sometimes  love  comes  consciously,  by  way 
of  confidence,  esteem  and  friendship.  I  should  like 
to  begin  with  the  last,  and  end  with  the  first.  So 
what  must  one  do,  dear  sister,  to  attract  your 
attention." 

"  Not  to  make  such  round  eyes  as  you  are  doing  now 
for  instance,  not  to  go  into  my  room — without  me,  not 
to  try  to  find  out  what  my  likes  and  dishkes 
are.  .  .  ." 

"  What  pride  !  Tell  me,  Sister,  forgive  my  bluntness  : 
Do  you  pride  yourself  on  this  ?  I  ask  because  Grand- 
mother told  me  you  were  proud." 

"  Grandmother  must  have  her  finger  in  everything. 
I  am  not  proud.  In  what  connection  did  she  say 
I  w^as  ? 

"  Because  I  have  made  a  gift  of  these  houses  and 
gardens  to  you  and  Marfinka.  She  said  that  you 
would  not  accept  the  gift.  Is  that  true  ?  Marfinka 
has  accepted  on  the  condition  that  you  do  not  refuse. 
Grandmother  hesitated,  and  has  not  come  to  a  final 
decision,  but  waits,  it  seems,  to  see  what  you  will 
say.  And  how  shall  you  decide.  Will  a  sister  take 
a  gift  from  a  brother  ? 

"  Yes,  I  accept  .  .  .  but  no,  I  can  buy  the  estate. 
Sell  it  to  me.  ...  I  have  money,  and  will  pay  you 
50,000  roubles  for  it." 

"  I  will  not  do  it  that  way." 

She  looked  thoughtfully  out  on  the  Volga,  the 
precipice,  and  the  park. 

"  Very  well.  I  agree  to  anything  you  please,  so 
long  as  we  remain  here." 


92  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  I  will  have  the  deed  drawn  up." 

"  Yes,  thank  you  !  "  she  said,  stretching  out  both 
hands  to  him. 

He  pressed  her  hands,  and  kissed  Vera  on  the 
cheek.  She  returned  the  pressure  of  his  hands  and 
kissed  the  air. 

"  You  seem  really  to  love  the  place  and  this  old 
house." 

"  And  you,  do  you  mean  to  stay  here  long  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  It  depends  on  circumstances — 
on  you." 

"  On  me  ?  " 

"  Come  over  to  the  other  house." 

"  I  will  follow  you.  I  must  first  put  things  straight 
here.     I  have  not  yet  unpacked." 

The  less  Raisky  appeared  to  notice  Vera,  the  more 
friendly  Vera  was  to  him,  although,  in  spite  of  her 
aunt's  wishes  she  neither  kissed  him  nor  addressed 
him  as  "  thou."  But  as  soon  as  he  looked  at  her 
overmuch  or  seemed  to  hang  on  her  words,  she  became 
suspicious,  careful  and  reserved.  Her  coming  made 
a  change  in  the  quiet  circle,  putting  everything  in 
a  different  light.  It  might  happen  that  she  said 
nothing,  and  was  hardly  seen  for  a  couple  of  days, 
yet  Raisky  was  conscious  every  moment  of  her  where- 
abouts and  her  doings.  It  was  as  if  her  voice  penetrated 
to  him  through  any  wall,  and  as  if  her  doings  were 
reflected  in  any  place  where  he  was.  In  a  few  days 
he  knew  her  habits,  her  tastes,  her  likings,  all  that 
love  on  her  outer  life.  But  the  indwelling  spirit, 
Vera  herself,  remained  concealed  in  the  shadows. 
In  her  conversation  she  betrayed  no  sign  of  her  active 
imagination  and  she  answered  a  jest  with  a  gay  smile, 
but  Raisky  rarely  made  her  laugh  outright.  If  he 
did  her  laughter  broke  off  abruptly  to  give  place  to 
an  indifferent  silence.  She  had  noregular  employment. 
She  read,  but  was  never  heard  to  speak  of  what  she 
read  ;  she  did  not  play  the  piano,  though  she  sometimes 
struck  discords  and  listened  to  their  effects. 

Raisky  noticed  that  their  aunt  was  liberal  with 
observation  and  warnings  for  Marfinka ;  but  she  said 


THE    PRECIPICE  93 

nothing  to  Vera,  no  doubt  in  the  hope  that  the  good 
seed  sown  would  bear  fruit. 

Vera  had  moments  when  she  was  seized  with  a 
feverish  desire  for  activity  ;  and  then  she  would  help 
in  the  house,  and  in  the  most  varying  tasks  with 
surprising  skill.  This  thirst  for  occupation  came  on  her 
especially  when  she  read  reproach  in  her  aunt's  eyes. 
If  she  complained  that  her  guests  were  too  much  for 
her,  Vera  would  not  bring  herself  to  assist  immediately, 
but  presently  she  would  appear  in  the  company  with 
a  bright  face,  her  eyes  gleaming  with  gaiety,  and 
astonished  her  aunt  by  the  grace  and  wit  with  which 
she  entertained  the  visitors.  This  mood  would  last 
a  whole  evening,  sometimes  a  whole  day,  before  she 
again  relapsed  into  shyness  and  reserve,  so  that  no 
one  could  read  her  mind  and  heart. 

That  was  all  that  Raisky  could  observe  for  the  time, 
and  it  was  all  the  others  saw  either.  The  less  ground 
he  had  to  go  on  however,  the  more  active  his  imagina- 
tion was  in  seeking  to  divine  her  secret. 

She  came  over  every  day  for  a  short  time,  exchanged 
greetings  with  her  aunt  and  her  sister,  and  returned 
to  the  other  house,  and  no  one  knew  how  she  passed 
her  time  there.  Tatiana  Markovna  grumbled  a  little 
to  herself,  complained  that  her  niece  was  moody,  and 
shy,  but  did  not  insist. 

For  Raisky  the  whole  place,  the  park,  the  estate 
with  the  two  houses,  the  huts,  the  peasants,  the 
whole  life  of  the  place  had  lost  its  gay  colours.  But 
for  Vera  he  would  long  since  have  left  it.  It  was  in 
this  melancholy  mood  that  he  lay  smoking  a  cigar  on 
the  sofa  in  Tatiana  Markovna's  room.  His  aunt  who 
was  never  happy  unless  she  was  doing  something,  was 
looking  through  some  accounts  brought  her  by  Savili  ; 
before  her  lay  on  pieces  of  paper  samples  of  hay  and 
rye.  Marfinka  was  working  at  a  piece  of  lace.  Vera, 
as  usual,  was  not  there. 

Vassilissa  announced  visitors  ;  the  young  master; 
from  Kolchino. 

"  Nikolai  Andreevich  Vikentev,  please  enter." 

Marfinka  coloured,  smoothed  her  hair,  gave   a  tug 


94  THE    PRECIPICE 

to  her  fichu,  and  cast  a  glance  in  the  mirror.  Raisky 
shook  his  finger  at  her,  making  her  colour  more  deeply. 

"  The  person  who  stayed  one  night  here,"  said 
Vassilissa  to  Raisky,  "  is  also  asking  for  you." 

"  Markushka  ?  "  asked  Tatiana  Markovna  in  a 
horrified  tone. 

"  Yes,"  said  Vassilissa. 

Raisky  hurried  out. 

"  How  glad  he  is,  how  he  rushes  to  meet  him. 
Don't  forget  to  ask  him  for  the  money.  Is  he  hungry  ? 
I  will  send  food  directly,"  cried  his  aunt  after  him. 

There  stepped,  or  rather  sprang  into  the  room  a 
fresh-looking,  well-built  young  man  of  middle  height 
of  about  twenty-three  years  of  age.  He  had  chestnut 
hair,  a  rosy  face,  grey-blue  keen  eyes,  and  a  smile 
which  displayed  a  row  of  strong  teeth.  He  laid  on  a 
chair  with  his  hat  a  bunch  of  cornflowers  and  a 
packet  carefully  done  up  in  a  handkerchief. 

"  Good-day,  Tatiana  Markovna  ;  Good-day,  Marfa 
Vassilievna,"  he  cried.  He  kissed  the  old  lady's 
hand,  and  would  have  raised  Marfinka's  to  his  lips, 
but  she  pulled  it  away,  though  he  found  time  to 
snatch  a  hasty  kiss  from  it. 

"  You  haven't  been  to  see  us  for  three  weeks,"  said 
Tatiana  Markovna,  reproachfully. 

"  I  could  not  come.  The  Governor  would  not 
let  me  off.  Orders  were  given  to  settle  up  all  the 
business  in  the  office,"  said  Vikentev,  so  hurriedly  that 
he  nearly  swallowed  some  of  the  words. 

"  That  is  absurd  ;  don't  listen  to  him.  Granny," 
interrupted  Marfinka.  "  He  hasn't  any  business,  as 
he  himself  said." 

"  I  swear  I  am  up  to  my  neck  in  work.  We  are 
now  expecting  a  new  chief  clerk,  and  I  swear  by  God 
we  have  to  sit  up  into  the  night." 

"  It  is  not  the  custom  to  appeal  to  God  over  such 
trifles.     It  is  a  sin,"  said  Tatiana  Markovna  severely. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  Is  it  a  trifle  when  Marfa 
Vassilievna  will  not  believe  me,  and  I,  by  God " 

"  Again  ?  " 

"Is  it  true,  Tatiana  Markovna,  that  you  have  a 


THE    PRECIPICE  95 

visitor  ?     Has  Boris  Pavlovich  arrived  ?     Was  it  he 
I  met  in  the  corridor  ?     I  have  come  on  purpose " 

"  You  see.  Granny,  he  has  come  to  see  my  cousin. 
Otherwise  he  would  have  stayed  away  longer,  wouldn't 
he?  " 

"  As  soon  as  I  could  tear  myself  away,  I  came  here. 
Yesterday  I  was  at  Kolchino  for  a  minute,  with 
Mama " 

"  Is  she  well  ?  " 

"  Thanks  for  the  kind  thought.  She  sends  her 
kind  regards  and  begs  you  not  to  forget  her  nameday." 

"  Many  thanks.  I  only  don't  know  whether  I 
can  come  myself.  I  am  old,  and  fear  the  crossing  of 
the  Volga." 

"  Without  you.  Granny,  Vera  and  I  will  not  go. 
We,  too,  are  afraid  of  crossing  the  Volga." 

"  Be  ashamed  of  yourself,  Marfa  Vassilievna.  What 
are  you  afraid  of  ?  I  will  fetch  you  myself  with  our 
boat.     Our  rowers  are  singers." 

"  Under  no  circumstances  will  I  cross  with  you.  You 
never  sit  quiet  in  the  boat  for  a  minute.  What  have 
you  got  alive  in  that  handkerchief  ?  See,  Granny, 
I  am  sure  it's  a  snake." 

"  I  have  brought  you  a  carp,  Tatiana  Markovna, 
which  I  have  caught  myself.  And  these  are  for  your, 
Marfa  Vassilievna.  I  picked  the  cornflowers  here  in 
the  rye." 

"  You  promised  not  to  pick  any  without  me.  Now 
you  have  not  put  in  an  appearance  for  more  than 
two  weeks.  The  cornflowers  are  all  withered,  and 
what  can  I  do  with  them  ?  " 

"  Come  with  me,  and  we'll  pick  some  fresh  ones." 

"  Wait,"  called  Tatiana  Markovna.  "  You  can 
never  sit  quiet,  you  have  hardly  had  time  to  show 
your  nose,  the  perspiration  still  stands  on  your  fore- 
head, and  you  are  aching  to  be  off.  First  you  must 
have  breakfast.  And  you,  Marfinka,  find  out  if  that 
person,  Markushka,  will  have  anything.  But  don't 
go  yourself,  send  Egorka." 

Marfinka  seized  the  carp's  head  with  two  lingers, 
but  when  he  began  to  wave  his  tail  hither  and  thither. 


96  THE    PRECIPICE 

she  uttered  a  loud  cry,  hastily  dropped  him  on  the 
floor,  and  fled  down  the  corridor. 

Vikentev  hurried  after,  and  a  few  moments  later 
Tatiana  Markovna  heard  a  gay  waltz  in  progress  and 
a  vigorous  stampede,  as  if  someone  were  rolling  down 
the  steps.  Soon  the  two  of  them  tore  across  the 
courtyard  to  the  garden,  Marfinka  leading,  and  from 
the  garden  came  the  sound  of  chattering,  singing  and 
laughter.  Tatiana  Markovna  shook  her  head  as  she 
looked  through  the  window.  Cocks,  hens  and  ducks 
fled  in  panic,  the  dogs  dashed  barking  at  Marfinka's 
heels,  the  servants  put  their  heads  out  of  the  windows 
of  their  quarters,  in  the  garden  the  tall  plants  swayed 
hither  and  hither,  the  flower  beds  were  broken  by 
the  print  of  flying  feet,  two  or  three  vases  were  over- 
turned, and  every  bird  sought  refuge  in  the  depths 
of  the  trees. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  the  two  culprits  sat  with 
Tatiana  Markovna  as  politely  as  if  nothing  had  hap- 
pened. They  looked  gaily  about  the  room  and  at 
one  another,  as  Vikentev  wiped  the  perspiration  from 
his  face  and  Marfinka  fanned  her  burning  face  with 
her  handkerchief. 

"  You  are  a  nice  pair,"  remarked  Tatiana  Markovna. 

"He  is  always  like  that,"  complained  Marfinka, 
"  he  chased  me.     Tell  him  to  sit  quiet," 

"  It  wasn't  my  fault,  Tatiana  Markovna.  Marfa 
Vassilievna  told  me  to  go  into  the  garden,  and  she 
herself  ran  on  in  front." 

"  He  is  a  man.  But  it  does  not  become  you,  who 
are  a  girl,  to  do  these  things." 

"  You  see  what  I  have  to  endure  through  you," 
said  Marfinka. 

"  Never  mind,  Marfa  Vassilievna.  Granny  is  only 
scolding  a  little,  as  she  is  privileged  to  do." 

"  What  do  you  say,  Sir  ?  "  said  Tatiana  Markovna, 
catching  his  words.  "  Come  here,  and  since  your 
Mama  is  not  here,  I  will  box  your  ears  for  you." 

"  But,  Tatiana  Markovna,  you  threaten  these 
things  and  never  do  them,"  he  said,  springing  up  to 
the  old  lady  and  bowing  his  head  submissively. 


THE    PRECIPICE  97 

"  Do  box  his  ears  well,  Granny,  so  that  his  ears  will 
be  red  for  a  month." 

"  How  did  you  come  to  be  made  of  quicksilver  ?  " 
said  Tatiana  Markovna,  affectionately.  "  Your  late 
father  was  serious,  never  talked  at  random,  and  even 
disaccustomed  your  mother  from  laughter  !  " 

"  Ah,  Marfa  Vassilievna,"  broke  in  Vikentev.  "  I 
have  brought  you  some  music  and  a  new  novel." 

"  Where  are  they  ?  " 

"  I  left  them  in  the  boat.  That's  the  fault  of  the 
carp.     I  will  go  and  fetch  them  now." 

In  a  moment  he  was  out  of  the  door,  and  ^larfinka 
would  have  followed  if  her  aunt  had  not  detained 
her. 

"  What  I  wanted  to  say  to  you  is "  she  began. 

She  hesitated  a  little,  as  if  she  could  not  make  up 
her  mind  to  speak.  Marfinka  came  up  to  her,  and 
the  old  lady  smoothed  her  disordered  hair. 

"  What  then,  Granny  ?  " 

"  You  are  a  good  child,  and  obey  every  word  of 
your  grandmother's.   You  are  not  like  Veroshka.  ..." 

"  Don't  find  fault  with  Veroshka,  Granny  !  " 

"  No,  you  always  defend  her.  She  does  indeed 
respect  me,  but  she  retains  her  own  opinion  and  does 
not  believe  me.  Her  view  is  that  I  am  old,  while 
you  two  girls  are  young,  know  everything,  and  read 
everything.  If  only  she  were  right.  But  everything 
is  not  written  in  books,"  she  added  with  a  sigh. 

"  What  do  you  want  to  say  to  me  ?  "  asked  Marfinka 
curiously. 

"  That  a  grown  girl  must  be  a  little  more  cautious. 
You  are  so  wild,  and  run  about  like  a  child." 

"  I  am  not  always  running  about.  I  work,  sew 
embroider,  pour  out  tea,  attend  to  the  household. 
Why  do  you  scold  me,  Grandmother,"  she  asked 
with  tears  in  her  eyes.  "  If  you  tell  me  I  must  not 
sing,  I  won't  do  it." 

"  God  grant  that  you  may  always  be  as  happy  as 
a  bird.     Sing,  play— — •  " 

"  Then,  why  scold  me  ?  " 

"  I  don't  scold  you  ;  I  only  ask  you  to  keep  within 


98  THE    PRECIPICE 

bounds.  You  used  to  run  about  with  Nikolai  Andree- 
vich " 

Marfinka  reddened  and  retired  to  her  corner. 

"  That  is  no  harm,"  continued  Tatiana  Markovna. 
"  There  is  nothing  against  Nikolai  Andreevich,  but  he 
is  just  as  wild  as  you  are.  You  are  my  dearest  child, 
and  you  will  remember  what  is  due  to  your  dignity." 

Marfinka  blushed  crimson. 

"  Don't  blush,  darling.  I  know  that  you  will  do 
nothing  wrong,  but  for  other  people's  sake  you  must 
be  careful.  Why  do  you  look  so  angry.  Come  and 
let  me  kiss  you." 

"  Nikolai  Andreevich  will  be  here  in  a  moment, 
and  I  don't  know  how  to  face  him." 

Before  Tatiana  Markovna  could  answer  Vikentev 
burst  in,  covered  with  dust  and  perspiration,  carrying 
music  and  a  book  which  he  laid  on  the  table 
by  Marfinka. 

"  Give  me  your  hand,  Marfa  Vassilievna,"  he  cried, 
wiping  his  forehead.  "How  I  did  run,  with  the 
dogs  after  me  !  " 

Marfinka  hid  her  hand,  bowed,  and  returned  with 
dignity  : 

"  Je  voiis  remercie,  monsieur  Vikentev,  vous  etes  bien 
amiable." 

He  stared  first  at  Marfinka,  then  at  her  aunt,  and 
asked  whether  she  would  try  over  a  song  with  him. 

"  I  will  try  it  by  myself,  or  in  company  with  Grand- 
mother." 

"  Let  us  go  into  the  park,  and  I  will  read  you  the 
new  novel,"  he  then  said,  picking  up  the  book. 

"  How  could  I  do  such  a  thing  ?  "  asked  Marfinka, 
looking  demurely  at  her  aunt.  "  Do  you  think  I 
am  a  child  ?  " 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this,  Tatiana  Markovna," 
stammered  Vikentev  in  amazement.  "  Marfa  Vassi- 
lievna is  unendurable."  He  looked  at  both  of  them, 
walked  into  the  middle  of  the  room,  assumed  a  sugary 
smile,  bowed  shghtly,  put  his  hat  under  his  arm,  and 
struggling  in  vain  to  drag  his  gloves  on  his  moist 
hands  began  :     "  Mille  pardons,  mademoiselle,  de  vous 


THE    PRECIPICE  99 

avoir  derangee.  Sacrebleu,  ca  n'entre  pas.  Oh  mille 
pardons,  mademoiselle." 

"  Do  stop,  you  foolish  boy  !  " 

Marfinka  bit  her  Ups,  but  could  not  help  laughing. 

"  Just  look  at  him,  Granny  !  How  can  anybody 
keep  serious  when  he  mimics  Monsieur  Charles  so 
nicely  ? 

"  Stop,  children,"  cried  Tatiana  Markovna,  her 
frown  relaxing  into  smiles.  "  Go,  and  God  be  with 
you.     Do  whatever  you  like." 


CHAPTER  XI 

Raisky's  patience  had  to  suffer  a  hard  trial  in  Vera's 
indifference.  His  courage  failed  him,  and  he  fell  into 
a  dull,  fruitless  boredom.  In  this  idle  mood  he  drew 
village  scenes  in  his  sketch  album — he  had  already 
sketched  nearly  every  aspect  of  the  Volga  to  be  seen 
from  the  house  or  the  cliff — and  he  made  notes  in  his 
note  books.  He  hoped  by  these  occupations  to  free 
himself  from  his  obsessing  thoughts  of  Vera.  He 
knew  he  would  do  better  to  begin  a  big  piece  of  work, 
instead  of  these  trifles.  But  he  told  himself  that 
Russians  did  not  understand  hard  work,  or  that 
real  work  demanded  rude  strength,  the  use  of 
the  hands,  the  shoulders  and  the  back.  He  thought 
that  in  work  of  this  kind  a  man  lost  consciousness 
of  his  humanity,  and  experienced  no  pleasures  in  his 
exertions  ;  he  shouldered  his  burden  like  a  horse 
that  seeks  to  ward  off  the  whip  with  his  tail. 
Rough  manual  labour  left  no  place  for  boredom. 
Yet  no  one  seeks  distractions  in  work,  but  in  pleasure. 
Work,  not  appearances,  he  repeated,  oppressed  by 
the  overpowering  dulness  which  drove  him  nearly 
mad,  and  created  a  frame  of  mind  quite  contrary 
to  his  gentle  temperament.  I  have  no  work,  I  cannot 
create  as  do  artists  who  are  absorbed  in  their  work,  and 
are  ready  to  die  for  it. 


100  THE    PRECIPICE 

He  took  his  cap  and  strolled  into  the  outlying 
parts  of  the  town,  then  into  the  town,  where  he  observed 
every  passer-by,  stared  into  the  houses,  down  the 
streets,  and  at  last  found  himself  standing  before  the 
Koslov's  house.  Being  told  that  Koslov  was  at  the 
school,  he  inquired  for  Juliana  Andreevna.  The 
woman  who  had  opened  the  door  to  him,  looked  at 
him  askance,  blew  her  nose  with  her  apron,  wiped  it 
with  her  finger,  and  vanished  into  the  house  for  good 
He  knocked  again,  the  dogs  barked,  and  then  appeared 
a  little  girl,  holding  her  finger  to  her  mouth,  who  stared 
at  him  and  departed.  He  was  about  to  knock  again, 
but,  instead,  turned  to  go.  As  he  passed  through  the 
little  garden  he  heard  voices,  Parisian  French  and 
a  woman's  voice  ;  he  heard  laughter  and  even  a  kiss. 

"  Poor  Leonti  1  "  he  w^hispered.  "  Or  rather,  blind 
Leonti  !  " 

He  stood  uncertain  whether  to  go  or  stay,  then 
hastened  his  steps,  and  determined  to  have  speech 
with  Mark.  He  sought  distraction  of  some  kind  to 
rid  himself  of  his  mood  of  depression,  and  to  drive 
away  the  insistent  thoughts  of  Vera.  Passing  the 
warped  houses,  he  left  the  town  and  passed  between 
two  thick  hedges  beyond  which  stretched  on  both 
sides  vegetable  gardens. 

"  Where  does  the  market  gardener,  Ephraim, 
live  ?  "  he  asked,  addressing  a  woman  over  the  hedge 
who  was  working  in  the  beds. 

Silently,  without  pausing  in  her  work,  she  motioned 
with  her  elbow  to  a  hut  standing  isolated  in  the  field. 
As  he  climbed  over  the  fence,  two  dogs  barked  furiously 
at  him.  From  the  door  of  the  hut  came  a  healthy 
young  woman  with  sunburnt  face  and  bare  arms, 
holding  a  baby. 

She  called  off  the  dogs  with  curses,  and  asked 
Raisky  whom  he  wished  to  see.  He  was  looking 
curiously  round,  since  he  did  not  understand  how 
anyone  except  the  peasant  and  his  wife  could  be 
living  there.  The  hut,  against  which  were  propped 
spades,  rakes  and  other  tools,  planks  and  pails,  had 
neither  yard  nor  fence  ;  two  windows  looked   out  on 


THE    PRECIPICE  loi 

the  vegetable  garden,  two  others  on  the  field.  In  the 
shed  were  two  horses,  here  was  a  pig  surrounded  by  a 
litter  of  young,  and  a  hen  wandered  around  with  her 
chickens.  A  little  further  off  stood  some  cars  and  a 
big  telega. 

"Does  Mark  Volokov  live  here  ?  "  asked  Raisky. 

The  woman  pointed  to  the  telega  in  silence. 

"  That's  his  room,"  she  said,  pointing  to  one  of 
the  windows.     "  He  sleeps  in  the  telega." 

"  At  this  time  of  day  ?  " 

"  He  only  came  home  this  morning,  probably 
rather  drunk." 

Raisky  approached  the  telega. 

"  What  do  you  want  of  him  ?  "  asked  the  woman. 

"  To  visit  him." 

"  Let  him  sleep." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  I  am  frightened  here  alone  with  him,  and  my 
husband  won't  be  here  yet.     I  hope  he'll  sleep." 

"  Does  he  insult  you  ?  " 

"  No,  it  would  be  wicked  to  say  such  a  thing.  But 
he  is  so  restless  and  peculiar  that  I  am  afraid  of  him." 

She  rocked  the  child  in  her  arms,  and  Raisky  looked 
curiously  under  the  straw  coverirg.  Suddenly  Mark's 
tangled  hair  and  beard  emerged  ari  the  woman  vanished 
into  the  hut  as  he  cried,  "  Fool,  you  don't  know  how 
to  receive  visitors." 

"  Good-day  !  What  has  brought  you  here  ?  "  cried 
Mark  as  he  crawled  out  of  the  telega  and  stretched 
himself.     "  A  visit,  perhaps." 

"  I  was  taking  a  walk  out  of  sheer  boredom." 

"  Bored  !  with  two  beautiful  girls  at  home.  You, 
anartist,and  you  are  taking  a  walk  out  ot  sheer  boredom. 
Don't  your  affections  prosper  ?  "  he  winked.  "  They 
are  lovely  children,  especially  Vera  ?  " 

"  How  do  370U  know  my  cousins,  and  in  what  way 
do  they  concern  you  ?  "  asked  Raisky  diily. 

"  Don't  be  vexed.     Come  into  my  drawing-room." 

"  Tell  me  rather  why  you  sleep  in  the  telega. 
Are  you  playing  at  Diogenes  ?  " 

"  Yes,  because  I  must." 


102  THE    PRECIPICE 

They  entered  the  hut  and  went  into  a  boarded 
compartment,  where  stood  Mark's  bed  with  a  thin 
old  mattress,  a  thin  wadded  bed-cover  and  a  tiny 
pillow.  Scattered  on  a  shelf  on  the  wall,  and  on 
the  table  lay  books,  two  guns  hung  on  the  wall,  linen 
and  clothes  were  tumbled  untidily  on  the  only  chair. 

"  This  is  my  salon,  sit  down  on  the  bed,  and  I  will 
sit  on  the  chair.  Let  us  take  off  our  coats,  for  it  is 
infernally  hot.  No  ceremony,  as  there  are  no  ladies. 
That's  right.  Do  you  want  anything  ?  There  is 
nothing  but  milk  and  eggs.  It  you  don't  want 
any,  give  me  a  cigar." 

"  Many  thanks.  I  have  already  breakfasted,  and 
it  will  presently  be  dinner  time." 

"  Yes  I  You  live  with  your  Aunt,  Weren't  you 
expelled  after  having  harboured  me  in  the  night  ?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,  she  reproached  me  with  having 
allowed  you  to  go  to  bed  without  any  dessert,  and 
for  not  having  demanded  pillows." 

"  And  didn't  she  rail  against  me  ?  " 

"  As  usual,  but.  .  .  ." 

"  I  know  it  is  habit  and  does  not  come  from  her 
heart.  She  has  the  best  heart  one  can  wish  for, 
better  than  any  here.  She  is  bold,  full  of  character, 
and  with  a  solid  understanding ;  now  indeed  her 
brain  is  weakening.  .  .  ." 

"  That  is  your  opinion  ?  You  have  found  someone 
for  whom  you  have  sympathy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  especially  in  one  respect.  She  cannot  endure 
the  Governor  any  more  than  I  can.  I  don't  know 
what  her  reasons  are  ;  his  position  is  enough  for  me. 
We  neither  of  us  like  the  police  ;  we  are  oppressed 
by  them.  The  old  lady  is  compelled  by  them  to 
carry  out  all  sorts  of  repairs  ;  to  me  they  pay  far  too 
much  attention,  find  out  where  I  live,  whether  I 
go  far  from  the  town,  and  whom  I  visit." 

Both  fell  silent. 

"  Now  we  have  nothing  more  to  talk  about.  Why 
did  you  come  here  ?  "  asked  Mark. 

"  Because  I  was  bored." 

"  Fall  in  love." 


THE    PRECIPICE  103 

Raisky  was  silent. 

"  With  Vera,"  continued  Mark.  "  Splendid  girl, 
and  she  is  related  to  you.  It  must  be  easy  for  you 
to  begin  a  romance  with  her." 

Raisky  made  an  angry  gesture,  to  which  Mark 
replied  by  a  burst  of  laughter. 

"  Call  the  ancient  wisdom  to  your  help,"  he  said. 
"  Show  outward  coldness  when  you  are  inwardly 
consumed,  indifference  of  manner,  pride,  contempt — 
every  little  helps.  Parade  yourself  before  her  as 
suits  your  calling." 

"  My  calling  ?  " 

"  Isn't  it  your  calling  to  be  eccentric  ?  " 

"  Perhaps,"  remarked  Raisky  indifferently. 

"  I,  for  instance,"  said  Mark,  "  should  make  direct 
for  my  goal,  and  should  be  sure  of  victory.  You 
may  do  the  same,  but  you  would  do  so  penetrated 
by  the  conviction  that  you  stood  on  the  heights 
and  had  drawn  her  up  to  you,  you  idealist.  Show 
that  you  understand  3^our  calling,  and  you  may 
succeed.  It's  no  use  to  wear  yourself  out  with  sighs, 
to  be  sleepless,  to  watch  for  the  raising  of  the  lilac 
curtain  by  a  white  hand,  to  wait  a  week  for  a  kindly 
glance.' ' 

Raisk}^  rose,  furious. 

"  Ah,  I  have  hit  the  bull's  eye." 

Raisk}^  put  compulsion  on  himself  to  restrain  his 
rage,  for  every  involuntary  expression  or  gesture  of 
anger  would  have  meant  nothing  less  than  acqui- 
escence. 

"  I  should  ver}'  well  like  to  fall  in  love,  but  I  can- 
not," he  yawned,  counterfeiting  indifference.  "  It  is 
unsuited  to  my  years  and  doesn't  cure  my  boredom." 

"  Try  it,"  teased  Mark.  "  Let  us  have  a  wager  that 
in  a  week  you  will  be  as  enamoured  as  a  young  cat. 
And  within  two  months,  or  perhaps  one,  you  will  have 
perpetrated  so  many  follies  that  you  will  not  know 
how  to  get  away  from  here." 

"  If  I  am,  with  what  will  you  pay  ?  "  asked  Raisky 
in  a  tone  bordering  on  contempt. 

"  I    will  give   you    my   trousers   or   my   gun.      I 


104  THE    PRECIPICE 

possess  only  two  pairs  of  trousers.  The  tailor  has 
recovered  a  third  pair  for  debt.  Wait,  I  will  try  on 
3'our  coat.  Why,  it  fits  as  if  I  were  poured  into  a 
mould.     Try  mine." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  I  should  like  to  see  whether  it  suits  you.  Please 
try  it  on,  do." 

Raisky  was  indulgent  enough  to  allow  himself  to 
be  persuaded,  and  put  on  Mark's  worn,  dirty  coat. 

"  Well,  does  it  suit  ?  " 

"  It  fits  !  " 

"  Wear  it  then.  You  don't  wear  a  coat  long,  while 
for  me  it  lasts  for  two  years.  Besides,  whether  you 
are  contented  or  not  I  shan't  take  yours  off  my 
shoulders.     You  would  have  to  steal  it  from  me." 

Raisky  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Does  the  wager  hold  I  "  asked  Mark. 

"  What  put  you  on  to  that — you  will  excuse  me — 
ridiculous  idea  ?  " 

"  Don't  excuse  ^^^ourself.     Does  it  hold  ?  " 

"  The  wager  is  not  equal.     You  have  no  possessions." 

"  Don't  be  disturbed  on  that  account.  I  shall  not 
have  to  pay.  If  my  prophecy  comes  true,  then  you 
will  pay  me  three  hundred  roubles,  which  would 
come  in  very  conveniently." 

"  W^hat  nonsense,"  said  Raisky,  as  he  stood  up  and 
reached  for  his  cap  and  stick. 

"  At  the  latest  you  will  be  in  love  in  a  fortnight. 
In  a  month  you  will  be  groaning,  wandering  about 
like  a  ghost,  playing  3^our  part  in  a  drama,  or  possibly 
in  a  tragedy,  and  ending,  as  all  your  like  do,  with 
some  piece  of  folly.     I  know  you,  I  can  see  through 

you." 

"  But  if,  instead  my  falling  in  love  with  her,  she 
were  to  fall  in  love  with  me.  .  .  ." 

"  Vera  !  with  you  !  " 

"  Yes,  Vera,  with  me." 

"  Then  I  will  find  a  double  pledge,  and  bring  it  to 
you." 

"  You  are  a  madman  !  "  said  Raisky,  and  went 
without  bestowing  a  further  glance  on  Mark. 


THE    PRECIPICE  105 

"  In  one  month's  time  I  shall  have  won  three 
hundred  roubles,"  Mark  cried  after  him. 

Raisky  walked  angrily  home,  "  I  wonder  where  our 
charmer  is  now,"  he  wondered  gloomily.  "  Probably 
sitting  on  her  favourite  bench,  admiring  the  view.  I 
will  see."  As  he  knew  Vera's  habits,  he  could  say 
with  nearly  complete  certainty  where  she  would  be 
at  any  hour  of  the  day.  He  went  over  to  the  precipice, 
and  saw  her,  as  he  had  thought,  sitting  on  the  bench 
with  a  book  in  her  hand.  Instead  of  reading  she 
looked  out,  now  over  the  Volga,  now  into  the  bushes. 
When  she  saw  Raisky,  she  rose  slowly  and  walked 
over  to  the  old  house.  He  signed  to  her  to  wait  for 
him,  but  she  either  did  not  perceive  the  sign,  or  did 
not  wish  to  do  so.  When  she  reached  the  courtyard 
she  quickened  her  steps,  and  disappeared  within  the 
door  of  the  old  house. 

Raisky  could  hardly  control  his  rage.  "  And  a  stupid 
girl  like  that  thinks  that  I  am  in  love  with  her,"  he 
thought.  "  She  has  not  the  remotest  conception  of 
manners."  In  offering  the  wager,  Mark  had  stirred 
up  all  the  bitterness  latent  in  him.  He  hardly  looked 
at  Vera  when  he  sat  opposite  her  at  dinner.  If  he 
happened  to  raise  his  eyes,  it  was  as  if  he  were  dazed 
by  a  flash  of  lightning.  Once  or  twice  she  had  looked 
at  him  in  a  kind,  almost  affectionate  way,  but  his 
wild  glance  betrayed  to  her  the  agitation,  of  which  she 
deemed  herself  to  be  the  cause,  and  to  avoid  meeting 
his  eyes  she  bent  her  head  over  her  empty  plate. 

"  After  dinner,  I  shall  drive  with  Marfinka  to  the 
hay  harvest,"  said  Tatiana  Markovna  to  Raisky. 
"  Will  you  bestow  on  your  meadows  the  honour  of 
your  presence,  Sir  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  inclination  to  go,"  he  murmured. 

"  Does  the  world  go  so  hard  with  you  ?  "  asked 
Tatiana  Markovna.  "  You  are  indeed  weighed  down 
with  work." 

He  looked  at  Vera,  who  was  mixing  red  wine  with 
water.  She  emptied  her  glass,  rose,  kissed  her  aunt's 
hand,  and  went  out. 

Raisky  -"oo  rose,  and  went  to  his  room.     His  aunt, 


io6  THE    PRECIPICE 

Marfinka,  and  Vikentev,  who  had  just  happened  to 
turn  up,  drove  to  the  hay  harvest,  and  the  afternoon 
peace  soon  reigned  over  the  house.  One  man  crawled 
into  the  hayrick,  another  in  the  outhouse,  another 
slept  in  the  family  carriage  itself,  while  others  took 
advantage  of  the  mistress's  absence  to  go  into  the 
outskirts  of  the  town 

Raisky's  thoughts  were  filled  with  Vera.  Although 
he  had  sworn  to  himself  to  think  of  her  no  more,  he 
could  not  conquer  his  thoughts.  Where  was  she  ? 
He  would  go  to  her  and  talk  it  all  over.  He  was 
inspired  only  with  curiosity,  he  assured  himself.  He 
took  his  cap  and  hurried  out.  Vera  was  neither  in 
the  room  nor  in  the  old  house  ;  he  searched  for  her 
in  vain  on  the  field,  in  the  vegetable  garden,  in  the 
thicket  on  the  cliff,  and  went  to  look  for  her  down 
along  the  bank  of  the  Volga.  When  he  found  no 
one  he  turned  homewards,  and  suddenly  came  across 
her  a  few  steps  from  him,  not  far  from  the  house. 

"  Ah  !  "  he  cried,  "  there  you  are.  I  have  been 
hunting  for  you  everywhere." 

"  And  I  have  been  waiting  for  you  here,"  she 
returned. 

He  felt  as  if  he  were  suddenly  enveloped  in  winter 
in  the  soft  airs  of  the  South. 

"  You — waiting  for  me,"  he  said  in  a  strange  voice, 
and  looked  at  her  in  astonishment. 

"  I  wanted  to  ask  you  why  you  pursue  me  ?  " 

Raisky  looked  at  her  fixedly. 

"  I  hardly  ever  speak  to  you." 

"  It  is  true  that  you  rarely  talk  to  me,  but  you  look 
at  me  in  such  a  wild  and  extraordinary  fashion  that 
it  constitutes  a  kind  of  pursuit.  And  that  is  not  all  ; 
you  quietly  follow  my  steps.  You  get  up  earlier 
than  I  do,  and  wait  for  me  to  wake,  draw  my  curtains 
back,  and  open  the  window  ;  whatever  way  I  take  in 
the  park,  and  wherever  I  sit  down,  I  must  meet  you." 

"  Very  rarely." 

"  Three  or  four  times  a  week.  It  would  not  be 
often  and  would  not  annoy  me,  quite  the  reverse,  if 
it    occurred    without    intention.     But    in    3^our   eyes 


THE    PRECIPICE  107 

and  steps  I  see  only  one  thing,  the  continual  effort 
to  give  me  no  peace,  to  master  my  every  glance,  word 
and  thought." 

He  was  amazed  at  her  boldness  and  independence, 
at  the  freedom  of  her  speech.  He  saw  before  him, 
as  he  imagined,  the  little  girl  who  had  nervously 
concealed  herself  from  him  for  fear  that  her  egoism 
might  suffer  through  the  inequality  of  her  brains, 
her  ideas  and  her  education.  This  was  a  new  figure, 
a  new  Vera. 

"  What  if  all  this  exists  only  in  yoxir  imagination  ?  " 
he  said  undecidedly. 

"  Don't  lie  to  me,"  she  interrupted.  "  If  you  are 
successful  in  observing  my  every  footstep,  my  every 
moment,  at  least  permit  me  to  be  conscious  of  the 
discomfort  of  such  observation.  I  tell  you  plainly 
that  it  oppresses  me  ;  it  is  slavery  ;  I  feel  like  a  prisoner." 

"  What  do  you  ask  of  me  ?  " 

"  My  freedom." 

"  Freedom — I  am  3^our  chevalier — therefore.  .  .  ." 

"  Therefore  you  will  not  leave  a  poor  girl  room  to 
breathe.  Tell  me,  what  reason  have  I  given  you  to 
regard  me  differently  from  any  other  girl  ?  " 

"  Beauty  adores  admiration  ;  it  is  her  right." 

"  Beauty  has  also  a  right  to  esteem  and  freedom. 
Is  it  an  apple  hanging  on  the  other  side  of  the  hedge, 
that  every  passer-by  can  snatch  at  ?  " 

"  Don't  agitate  yourself.  Vera  !  "  he  begged,  taking 
her  hands.  "  I  confess  my  guilt.  I  am  an  artist, 
have  a  susceptible  temperament,  and  perhaps  aban- 
doned myself  too  much  to  my  impressions.  Then  I 
am  no  stranger.  Let  us  be  reconciled,  Vera.  Tell 
me  your  wishes,  and  they  shall  be  sacredly  fulfilled. 
I  will  do  what  pleases  you,  will  avoid  what  offends 
you,  in  order  to  deserve  your  friendship." 

"  I  told  you  from  the  beginning,  you  remember, 
how  you  could  show  me  your  sympathy,  by  not 
observing  me,  by  letting  me  go  my  way  and  taking 
no  notice  of  me.  Then  I  will  come  of  myself,  and  we 
will  fix  the  hours  that  we  will  spend  together,  reading 
or  walking." 


io8  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  You  ask  me,  Vera,  to  be  utterly  indifferent  to 
you  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Not  to  notice  how  lovely  you  are  ?  To  look  at 
you  as  if  you  were  Grandmother.  But  even  if  I  adore 
your  beauty  in  silence  from  a  distance,  you  would 
know  it,  and  can  you  forbid  me  that  ?  Passion  may 
melt  the  surface  and  there  may  steal  into  your  heart 
an  affection  for  me.  Don't  let  me  leave  you  without 
any  hope.     Can  you  not  give  me  any  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  I  " 

"  How  can  you  tell  ?     There  may  come  a  time." 

"  No,  Cousin,  never." 

Unmanned  by  terror,  he  collected  his  strength  to 
say  breathlessly  : 

"  You  are  no  longer  free  ?     You  love  ?  " 

She  knit  her  brow  and  looked  down  on  the  Volga. 

"  And  is  there  any  sin  if  I  do  ?  Will  you  not  permit 
it,  Cousin  ?  "  she  asked  ironically. 

"  I  !  I,  who  bring  you  the  lofty  philosophy  of 
freedom,  how  should  I  not  permit  you  to  love.  Love 
independently  of  everybody,  conceal  nothing,  fear 
neither  Granny  nor  anyone  else.  The  dawn  of  freedom 
is  red  in  the  sky,  and  shall  woman  alone  be  enslaved  ? 
You  love.  Say  so  boldly,  for  passion  is  happiness, 
and  allow  others  at  least  to  envy  you." 

"  I  concede  no  one  the  right  to  call  me  to  account ; 
I  am  free." 

"  But  you  are  afraid  of  Grandmother." 

"  I  am  afraid  of  no  one.  Grandmother  knows  it, 
and  respects  my  freedom.  And  my  wish  is  that  you 
should  follow  her  example.  That  is  all  I  wanted  to 
say,"  she  concluded  as  she  rose  from  the  bench. 

"  Yes,  Vera,  now  I  understand,  and  am  in  accord 
with  you,"  he  replied,  rising  also.  "  Here  is  my  hand 
on  it,  that  from  to-day  you  will  neither  hear  nor 
notice  my  presence." 

She  gave  her  hand,  but  drew  it  rapidly  back  as  he 
pressed  it  to  his  lips. 

"  We  will  see,"  she  said.  "  But  if  you  don't  keep 
your  word,  we  will  see " 


THE    PRECIPICE  109 

"  Say  all  you  have  to  say,  Vera,  or  my  head  will 
go  to  pieces." 

Vera  looked  long  at  the  prospect  before  her  before 
she  ended  with  decision  : 

"  Then  however  dearly  I  love  this  place,  I  will 
leave  it." 

"  To  go  where  ?  " 

"  God's  world  is  wide.     Au  revoir,  Cousin  !  " 

A  few  days  later  Raisky  got  up  about  five  o'clock. 
The  sun  was  already  full  on  the  horizon,  a  wholesome 
freshness  rose  from  garden  and  park,  flowers  breathed 
a  deeper  perfume,  and  the  dew  glittered  on  the  grass. 
He  dressed  quickly  and  went  out  into  the  garden, 
when  he  suddenly  met  Vera. 

"  It  is  not  intentional,  not  intentional,  I  swear," 
he  stammered  in  his  first  surprise. 

They  both  laughed.  She  picked  a  flower,  threw  it 
to  him,  and  gave  him  her  hand  ;  and  in  reply  to  the 
kiss  he  gave  she  kissed  him  on  the  forehead. 

"  It  was  not  intentional.  Vera,"  he  repeated.  "  You 
see  yourself." 

"  I  see  you  arj  good  and  kind." 

"  Generous,"  he  added. 

"  We  have  not  got  to  generosity  yet,"  she  said 
laughing,  and  took  his  arm.  "  Let  us  go  for  a  walk  ; 
it's  a  lovely  morning." 

He  felt  unspeakably  happy. 

"  What  coat  are  you  wearing  ?  "  she  asked  in 
surprise  as  they  walked.     "  It  is  not  yours." 

"  Ah,  it  is  Mark's." 

"  Is  he  here  ?     How  did  you  come  by  his  coat  ?  " 

"  Are  you  frightened  ?  The  whole  house  fears 
him  like  fire  ?  "  And  he  explained  how  he  got  the  coat. 
She  listened  absently  as  they  went  silently  down  the 
main  path  of  the  garden,  Vera  with  her  eyes  on  the 
ground. 

Against  his  will  he  felt  impelled  to  seek  another 
argument  with  her. 

"  You  seem  to  have  something  on  your  mind," 
she  began,  "  which  3^ou  do  not  wish  to  tell." 


no  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  I  did  wish  to,  but  I  feared  the  storm  I  might 
draw  upon  myself." 

"  You  did  not  wish  to  discuss  beauty  once  more  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  I  want  to  explain  what  my  feeling  for 
you  is.  I  am  convinced  that  this  time  I  am  not  in 
error.  You  have  opened  to  me  a  special  door  of  your 
heart,  and  I  recognise  that  your  friendship  would  bring 
great  happiness,  and  that  its  soft  tones  would  bring 
colour  into  my  dull  life.  Do  you  think,  Vera,  that 
friendship  is  possible  between  a  man  and  a  woman  ?  ' ' 

"  Why  not  ?  If  two  such  friends  can  make  up 
their  minds  to  respect  one  another's  freedom,  if  one 
does  not  oppress  the  other,  does  not  seek  to  discover 
the  secret  of  the  other's  heart,  if  they  are  in  constant, 
natural  intercourse,  and  know  how  to  respect 
secrets.  .   .  ." 

His  eyes  blazed.     "  Pitiless  woman,"  he  broke  in. 

She  had  seen  the  glance,  and  lowered  her  eyes. 

"  We  will  go  in  to  Grandmother.  She  has  just 
opened  the  window,  and  will  call  us  to  tea  ?  " 

"  One  word  more.  Vera.  You  have  wisdom,  lucidity, 
decision.  .  .  ." 

"  What  is  wisdom  ?  "  she  asked  mischievously. 

"  Observation  and  experience,  harmoniously 
applied  to  life." 

"  I  have  hardly  any  experience." 

"  Nature  has  bestowed  on  you  a  sharp  eye  and  a 
clear  brain." 

"  Is  not  such  a  possession  disgraceful  for  a  girl  ?  " 

"  Your  wholesome  ideas,  your  cultivated  speech.  .  .  ." 

"  You  are  surprised  that  a  drop  of  village  wisdom 
should  have  descended  on  your  poor  sister.  You 
would  have  preferred  to  find  a  fool  in  my  place, 
wouldn't  you,  and  now  you  are  annoyed  ?  " 

"  No,  Vera,  you  intoxicate  me.  You  do  indeed 
forbid  me  to  mention  your  beauty  by  so  much  as 
a  syllable,  and  will  not  hear  why  I  place  it  so  high. 
Beauty  is  the  aim  and  at  the  same  time  the  driving 
power  of  art,  and  I  am  an  artist.  The  beauty  of 
which  I  speak  is  no  material  thing,  she  does  not  kindle 
her   fires  with   the  glow   of  passionate   desire   alon? 


THE    PRECIPICE  in 

more  especially  she  awakens  the  man  in  man,  arouses 
thought,  inspires  courage,  fertilises  the  creative 
power  of  genius,  even  when  that  genius  stands  at 
the  culmination  of  its  dignity  and  power  ;  she  does 
not  scatter  her  beams  for  trifles,  does  not  besmirch 
purity — she  is  womanly  wisdom.  You  are  a  woman. 
Vera,  and  understand  what  I  mean.  Your  hand 
will  not  be  raised  to  punish  the  man,  the  artist,  for 
this  worship  of  beauty." 

"  According  to  you  wisdom  lies  in  keeping  these 
rules  before  one's  eyes  as  the  guiding  thread  of  life, 
in  which  case  I  am  not  wise,  I  have  not  '  received  this 
baptism.'  " 

An  emotion  closely  related  to  sadness  shone  in  her 
eyes,  as  she  gazed  upwards  for  a  moment  before  she 
entered  the  house.  Raisky  anxiously  told  himself  that 
she  was  as  enigmatic  as  night  itself,  and  he  wondered 
what  was  the  origin  of  these  foreign  ideas  and  whether 
her  young  life  was  already  darkened. 


CHAPTER  XII 

On  Sunday  Tatiana  Markovna  had  guests  for  the 
second  breakfast.  The  covers  had  been  removed 
from  the  purple  damask-covered  chairs  in  the  reception 
room.  Yakob  had  rubbed  the  eyes  of  the  family 
portraits  with  a  damp  rag,  and  they  appeared  to 
look  forth  more  sharply  than  on  ordinary  days.  The 
freshly  waxed  floors  shone.  Yakob  himself  paraded  in 
a  dress  coat  and  a  white  necktie,  while  Egorka, 
Petrushka  and  Stepka,  the  latter  of  whom  had  been 
fetched  from  the  village  and  had  not  yet  found  his 
legs,  had  been  put  into  old  liveries  which  did  not 
fit  them  and  smelt  of  moth.  The  dining-room  and 
the  reception  room  had  been  fumigated  just  before 
the  meal. 

Tatiana  Markovna  herself,  in  a  silk  dress  and  shawl, 
,  with  her  cap  on  the  back  of  her  head,  sat  on  the  divan. 


112  THE    PRECIPICE 

Near  her  the  guests  had  taken  their  places  in  accordance 
with  their  rank  and  dignity.  The  place  of  honour 
was  occupied  by  Niel  Andreevich  Tychkov,  in  a  dress 
coat  with  an  order,  an  important  old  gentleman 
whose  eyebrows  met  in  his  great  fat  face,  while  his  chin 
was  lost  in  his  cravat.  The  consciousness  of  his 
dignity  appeared  in  every  gesture  and  in  his  conde- 
scending speech.  Next  him  sat  the  invariably  modest 
Tiet  Nikonich,  also  in  a  dress  coat,  with  a  glance  of 
devotion  for  Tatiana  Markovna,  and  a  smile  for  all. 
Then  followed  the  priest  in  a  silk  gown  with  a  broad 
embroidered  girdle,  the  councillors  of  the  local  court, 
the  colonel  of  the  garrison,  ladies  from  the  town  ; 
young  officials  who  stood  talking  in  undertones  in 
a  corner  ;  young  girls,  friends  of  Marfinka,  who  timidly 
clasped  their  damp  hands  and  continually  changed 
colour  ;  finally  a  proprietor  from  the  neighbourhood 
with  three  half-grown  sons. 

When  the  company  had  already  been  assembled 
for  some  little  time  at  the  breakfast-table,  Raisky 
entered.  He  felt  that  he  was  playing  the  role  of 
an  actor,  fresh  to  the  place,  making  his  first  appearance 
on  the  provincial  stage  after  the  most  varying  reports 
had  been  spread  about  him. 

Tatiana  Markovna  introduced  him  as  "  My  nephew, 
the  son  of  my  late  niece  Sfonichka,"  though  everybody 
knew  who  he  was.  Several  people  stood  up  to  greet 
him.  Niel  Andreevich,  who  expected  that  he  would 
come  and  speak  to  him,  gave  him  a  friendly  smile  ; 
the  ladies  pulled  their  dresses  straight  and  glanced 
at  the  mirror  ;  the  young  officials  who  were  standing 
eating  off  their  plates  in  the  corner  shifted  from  one 
foot  to  the  other  ;  and  the  young  girls  blushed  still 
more  and  pressed  their  hands  as  if  danger  threatened. 

Raisky  bowed  to  the  assembled  guests,  and  sat 
down  beside  his  aunt  on  the  divan. 

"  Look  how  he  throws  himself  down,"  whispered 
a  young  official  to  his  neighbour.  "  His  Excellency 
is  looking  at  him." 

"  Niel  Andreevich  has  been  wanting  to  see  you  for 
a  long  time,"  said  Tatiana  Markovna  aloud,  adding 


THE    PRECIPICE  113 

under  her  breath,  "  His  Excellency,  don't  forget." 
In  the  same  low  tone  Raisky  asked  who  the  little  lady 
was  with  the  fine  teeth  and  the  well-developed  figure. 

"  Shame,  Boris  Pavlovich,"  and  aloud,  "  Niel 
Andreevich,  Borushka  has  been  desiring  to  present 
himself  to  you  for  a  long  time." 

Raisky  was  about  to  reply  when  Tatiana  Markovna 
pressed  his  hand,  enjoining  silence. 

"  Why  have  you  not  given  me  the  pleasure  of  a 
visit  from  you  before,"  said  Niel  Andreevich  with  a 
kindly  air.  "  Good  men  are  always  welcome.  But 
it  is  not  amusing  to  visit  us  old  people,  and  the  new 
generation  do  not  care  for  us,  do  they  ?  And  you 
hold  with  the  young    people.     Answer  frankly." 

"  I  do  not  divide  mankind  into  the  old  and  the 
new  generation,"  said  Raisky,  helping  himself  to 
a  slice  of  cake. 

"  Don't  hurry  about  eating  ;  talk  to  him,"  whispered 
Tatiana  Markovna. 

"  I  will  eat  and  talk  at  the  same  time,"  he  returned 
aloud. 

Tatiana  Markovna  looked  confused,  and  turned 
her  back  on  him. 

"  Don't  disturb  him,"  continued  Niel  Andreevich. 
"  Young  people  are  like  that.  I  am  curious  to  know 
how  you  judge  men,  Boris  Pavlovich." 

"  By  the  impression  they  produce  on  me." 
"  Admirable.     I  like   you   for  your  candour.     Let 
us  take  an  example.     What  is  your  opinion  of  me  ?  " 
"  I  am  afraid  of  you." 
Niel  Andreevich  laughed  complacently. 
"  Tell  me  why.     You  may  speak  quite  plainly." 
"  Why    I  am    afraid  of  you  ?      They  say   you  find 
fault  with  everybody,"  he  went  on,  heedless  of  Tatiana 
Markovna's  efforts  to  interrupt.     "  My  Grandmother 
tells   me  that  you  lectured    one  man  for  not  having 
attended  Mass." 

Tatiana  Markovna  went  hot  all  over,  and  taking  off 
her  cap,  put  it  down  behind  her. 

"  I  am  glad  she  told  you  that.  I  like  to  have  my 
doings  correctly  reported.     Yes,   I  do  lecture  people 


114  THE    PRECIPICE 

sometimes.  Do  you  remember  ?  "  he  appealed  to 
the  young  men  at  the  door, 

.  "  At  your  service,  your  Excellency,"  answered 
one  of  them  quickly,  putting  one  foot  forward  and 
his  han^^  s  behind  his  back.     "  I  once  received  one." 

"  And  why  ?  " 

"  I  was  unsuitably  dressed." 

"  You  came  to  me  one  Sunday  after  Mass.  I  was 
glad  to  see  you,  but  instead  of  appearing  in  a  dress 
coat,  you  came  in  a  short  jacket."  ^ 

At  this  point  Paulina  Karpovna  rustled  m,  wearing 
a  muslin  dress  with  wide  sleeves  so  that  her  white 
arms  were  visible  almost  to  the  shoulder.  She  was 
followed  by  a  cadet. 

"  What  heat !  Bonjour,  Bonjour,"  she  cried,  nodding 
in  all  directions,  and  then  sat  down  on  the  divan 
beside  Raisky. 

"  There  is  not  room  here,"  he  said,  and  sat  down  on 
a  chair  beside  her. 

"  Ah,  Dalila  Karpovna,"  remarked  Niel  Andreevich. 
' '  Good-day.     How  are  you  ?  " 

"  Good-day,"  she  answered  drily,  turning  away. 

"  Why  don't  you  bestow  a  kind  glance  on  me,  and 
let  me  admire  your  swanlike  neck  !  " 

The  young  officials  in  the  corner  giggled,  the 
ladies  smiled,  and  Paulina  Karpovna  whispered  to 
Raisky  :  "  The  rude  creature.  The  first  word  he 
speaks  is  folly." 

"  Ah,  you  despise  an  old  man.  But  if  I  were  to 
seek  for  your  hand  ?  Do  I  look  like  a  bridegroom,  or 
am  I  too  old  for  you  ?  " 

"  I  decline  the  honour.  Bonjour,  Natahe  Ivanovna, 
where  did  you  buy  that  pretty  hat,  at  Madame  Pichet's  ? " 

"  My  husband  ordered  it  from  Moscow,  as  a  surprise 
for  me." 

"  Very  pretty." 

"But  listen  seriously,"  cried  Niel  Andreevich 
insistently.  "  I  am  going  to  woo  you  in  earnest.  I  need 
a  housekeeper,  a  modest  woman,  who  is  no  coquette, 
and  has  no  taste  for  finery,  who  never  glances  at 
another  man,"and  you  are  an  example." 


THE    PRECIPICE  115 

Paulina  Karpovna  pretended  not  to  hear,  but 
fanned  herself  and  attempted  to  draw  Raisky  into  a 
conversation. 

"  In  our  esteem,"  went  on  Niel  Andreevich, 
pitilessly,  "  you  are  a  model  for  our  mothers  and 
daughters.  At  church  your  eyes  remain  fixed  on  the 
sacred  picture  without  a  moment's  diversion,  and 
never  even  perceive  the  presence  of  young  men.  ..." 

The  giggling  in  the  corner  increased,  the  ladies  made 
faces  in  ^eir  efforts  to  restrain  their  laughter,  and 
Tatiana  Markovna  tried  to  divert  Niel  Andreevich's 
attention  from  her  guest,  by  herself  addressing  her, 
but  he  returned  to  the  attack. 

"  You  are  as  retiring  as  a  nun,"  he  went  on,  "  never 
display  your  arms  and  shoulders,  but  bear  yourself  in 
accordance  with  your  years." 

"  Why  don't  you  leave  me  alone  ?  "  returned  Paulina 
Karpovna,  and  turning  to  Raisky  she  added  :  "  Est-il 
bete,  grossier." 

"  Because  I  wish  to  marry  you,  we  are  a  suitable 
pair." 

"  It  will  be  difficult  to  find  a  wife  for  you." 

"  We  are  well  matched.  I  was  still  an  assessor 
when  you  married  the  late  Ivan  Egorovich.  And 
that  must  be " 

"  How  hot  it  is  !  Stifling  !  Let  us  go  into  the 
garden.  Please  give  me  my  mantilla,  Michel,"  she 
said  turning  to  the  cadet  who  had  come  with  her. 

At  this  moment  Vera  appeared,  and  the  company 
rose  and  crowded  round  her,  so  that  the  conversation 
took  another  turn.  Raisky  was  bored  by  the  guests, 
and  by  the  exhibition  he  had  just  witnessed.  He 
would  have  left  the  room,  but  that  Vera's  presence 
provided  a  strong  incentive  to  remain.  Vera  looked 
quickly  round  at  the  guests,  said  a  few  words  here 
and  there,  shook  hands  with  the  young  girls,  smiled  at 
the  ladies,  and  sat  down  on  a  chair  by  the  stove.  The 
young  officials  smoothed  their  coats,  Niel  Andreevich 
kissed  her  hand  with  evident  pleasure,  and  the  girls 
fixed   their   eyes   on   her.     Meanwhilf^-   Marfinka   was 


ii6  THE    PRECIPICE 

busily  employed  in  pouring  out  time,  handing  dishes 
and  particularly  in  entertaining  her  friends. 

"  Vera  Vassilievna,  m}'  dear,  do  take  my  part," 
cried  Niel  Andreevich. 

"  Is  any  one  offending  you  ?  " 

"  Indeed  there  is.  There  is  Dalila,  no,  Pelageia 
Karpovna " 

"  Impertinent  creature,"  said  that  lady  aloud,  as 
she  rose  and  went  quickly  towards  the  door. 

Tatiana  Markovna  also  rose.  "  Where  are  you 
going,  Paulina  Karpovna  ?  "  she  cried.  "  Marfinka, 
do  not  let  her  go." 

"  No,  no,  Tatiana  Markovna,"  came  Paulina  Kar- 
povna's  voice  from  the  hall,  "  I  am  always  grateful 
to  you,  but  I  do  not  wish  to  meet  such  a  loon.  If 
mv  husband  were  alive,  no  man  would  dare.  .  .  ." 

"  Do  not  be  vexed  ;  he  means  nothing  by  it,  but 
is  in  reality  a  decent  old  gentleman." 

"  Please  let  mte  go.  I  will  come  again  and  see  you 
when  he  is  not  here,"  she  said  as  she  left  the  house 
in  tears. 

In  the  room  she  had  left  everyone  was  in  gay  humour, 
and  Niel  Andreevich  condescended  to  share  the 
general  laughter,  in  which  however,  neither  Raisky 
nor  Vera  j oined.  Paulina  Karpovna  might  be  eccentric, 
but  that  did  not  excuse  either  the  loonish  amuse- 
ment of  the  people  assembled  or  the  old  man's  attacks. 
Raisky  remained  gloomily  silent,  and  shifted  his  feet 
ominously. 

"  She  is  offended  and  has  departed,"  remarked 
Niel  Andreevich,  as  Tatiana  Markovna,  visibly  agitated 
returned,  and  resumed  her  seat  in  silence.  "  It  won't 
do  her  any  harm,  but  will  be  good  for  her  health. 
She  shouldn't  appear  naked  in  society.  This  is  not 
a  bathing  establishment." 

At  this  point  the  ladies  lowered  their  eyes,  and  the 
young  girls  grew  crimson,  and  pressed  their  hands 
nervously  together. 

"  Neither  should  she  stare  about  her  in  church 
and  have  young  men  following  her  footsteps.  Come, 
Ivan    Ivanovich,    you    were    once    her   indefatigable 


THE    PRECIPICE  117 

cavalier.  Do  you  still  visit  her  ?  "  he  asked  a  young 
man  severely. 

"  Not  for  a  long  time,  your  Excellency.  I  got  tired 
of  forever  exchanging  compliments." 

"  It's  a  good  thing  you  have  given  it  up.  What  an 
example  she  sets  to  women  and  young  girls,  going 
about  dressed  in  pink  with  ribbons  and  frills,  when  she 
is  over  forty.  How  can  anybody  help  reading  her 
a  lecture  ?  You  see,"  he  added  turning  to  Raisky. 
"  that  I  am  only  a  terror  to  evildoers.  Who  has  made 
you  fear  me  ?  " 

"  Mark,"  answered  Raisky,  to  the  excitement  of 
all  present. 

"  What  Mark  ?  "  asked  Niel  Andreevich,  frowning. 

"  Mark  Volokov,  who  is  in  exile  here." 

"  Ah  !  that  thief.     Do  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  We  are  friends." 

"  Friends  !  "  hissed  the  old  man.  "  Tatiana  Mar- 
kovna,  what  do  I  hear  ?  " 

"  Don't  believe  him,  Niel  Andreevich.  He  does 
not  know  what  he  is  talking  about.  What  sort  of  a 
friend  of  yours  is  he  ?  " 

"  Why,  Grandmother,  did  he  not  sup  here  with  me 
and  spend  the  night  ?  Didn't  you  yourself  give 
orders  to  have  a  soft  bed  made  up  for  him  ?  " 

"  Boris  Pavlovich,  for  pity's  sake,  be  silent,"  whis- 
pered his  aunt  angrily. 

But  Tychkov  was  already  looking  at  her  with  amaze- 
ment, the  ladies  with  sympathy,  while  the  men  stared 
and  the  young  girls  drew  closer  to  one  another.  Vera 
looked  round  the  company,  thanking  Raisky  by  a 
friendly  glance,  and  Marfinka  hid  behind  her  aunt. 

"  What  a  confession  !  You  admitted  this  Barabbas 
under  your  roof,"  said  Niel  Andreevich. 

"  Not  I,  Niel  Andreevich.  Borushka  brought  him 
in  at  night,  and  I  did  not  even  know  who  was  sleeping 
in  his  room." 

"  You  go  round  with  him  at  night  ?  Don't  you 
know  that  he  is  a  suspicious  character,  an  enemy  of 
the  administration,  a  renegade  from  Church  and 
Society.     So  he  has  been  telling  you  about  me  ?  " 


ii8  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  Yes,"  Raisky  said. 

"  By  his  description  I  am  a  wild  beast,  a  devourer 
of  men." 

"  No,  you  do  not  devom*  them,  but  you  allow 
yourself,  by  what  right  God  only  knows,  to  insult 
them." 

"  And  did  you  believe  that  ?  " 

"  Until  to-day,  no." 

"  And  to-day  ?  " 

"  To-day,  I  believe  it,"  agreed  Raisky  to  the  terror 
and  agitation  of  the  company.  Most  of  the  ofhcials 
present  escaped  to  the  hall,  and  stood  near  the  door 
listening. 

"  How  so,"  asked  Niel  Andreevich  haughtil}', 

"  Because  you  have  just  insulted  a  lady." 

"  You  hear,  Tatiana  Markovna." 

"  Boris  Pavlovich,  Borushka,"  she  said,  seeking  to 
restrain  him." 

"  That  old  fashion-plate,  that  frivolous,  dangerous 
woman  !  " 

"  What  do  her  faults  matter  to  you.  Who  gave 
you  the  right  to  judge  other  people  ?  " 

"  Who  gave  you  the  right,  young  man,  to  reproach 
me  ?  Do  you  know  that  I  have  been  in  the  service 
for  forty  years,  and  that  no  minister  has  ever  made 
the  slightest  criticism  to  me." 

"  My  right  is  that  you  have  insulted  a  lady  in  my 
house.  I  should  be  a  miserable  creature  to  permit 
that.  If  you  don't  understand  that,  the  worse  for 
you." 

"  If  you  receive  a  person  who  is,  to  the  knowledge 
of  the  whole  town,  a  frivolous  butterfly,  dressing  in 
a  way  unsuited  to  her  age,  and  leaving  unfulfilled 
her  duties  to  her  family.  .  .  ." 

"  Well,  what  then  ?  " 

"  Then  both  you  and  Tatiana  Markovna  deserve 
to  hear  the  truth.  Yes,  I  have  been  meaning  to  tell 
you  for  a  long  time,  Matushka." 

"  Frivolity,  fhghtiness  and  the  desire  to  please  are 
not  such  terrible  crimes.  But  the  whole  town  knows 
that  you  have  accumulated  money  through  bribery 


THE    PRECIPICE  119 

that  you  robbed  your  own  nieces  and  had  them  locked 
up  in  an  asylum.  Yet  my  Grandmother  and  I  have 
received  you  in  our  house,  and  you  take  it  upon 
yourself  to  lecture  us." 

The  guests  who  heard  this  indictment  were  horror- 
stricken.  The  ladies  hurried  out  into  the  hall  without 
taking  leave  of  their  hostess,  the  rest  followed  them 
like  sheep,  and  soon  all  were  gone.  Tatiana  Markovna 
motioned  Marfinka  and  Vera  to  the  door,  but  Mar- 
finka  alone  obeyed  the  indication.  As  for  Niel  Andree- 
vich  he  had  become  deadly  pale. 

"  Who,"  he  cried,  "  who  has  brought  you  these 
tales  ?  Speak  !  That  brigand  Mark  ?  I  am  going 
straight  to  the  Governor.  Tatiana  Markovna,  if  this 
young  man  again  sets  foot  in  your  house,  you  and  I 
are  strangers.  Otherwise  within  twenty  four  hours, 
both  he  and  you  and  your  whole  household  shall  be 
transferred  to  a  place  where  not  even  a  raven  can 
penetrate  with  food.  Who  ?  Who  told  him  ?  I 
will  know.  Who  ?  Speak,"  he  hissed,  gasping  for 
breath,  and  hardly  knowing  what  he  said 

"  Stop  talking  rubbish,  Niel  Andreevich,"  com- 
manded Tatiana  Markovna,  rising  suddenly  from  her 
place.  "  You  will  explode  with  fury.  Better  drink 
some  water.  You  ask  who  has  said  it.  There  is  no 
secret  about  it,  for  I  have  said  it,  and  it  is  common 
knowledge  in  the  town." 

"  Tatiana  Markovna  I  "  shrieked  Niel  Andreevich. 

"  You  have  your  deserts.  Why  make  so  much 
noise  about  it  ?  In  another  person's  house  you  attack 
a  woman,  and  that  is  not  the  action  of  a  gentleman." 

"  How  dare  you  speak  like  that  to  me  ?  " 

Raisky  would  have  thrown  himself  on  him  if  his 
aunt  had  not  waved  him  aside.  Then  with  the  com- 
manding dignity  she  knew  how  to  assume,  she  put  on 
her  cap,  wrapt  herself  in  her  shawl,  and  went  right  up 
to  Niel  Andreevich,  while  Raisky  looked  on  in  amaze- 
ment, with  a  sense  of  his  own  smallness  in  her  majestic 
presence. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  she  began.  "  A  clerk  in  the 
chancellery,  an  upstart.     And  yet  you  dare  to  address 


I20  THE    PRECIPICE 

a  noblewoman  with  violence.  You  have  too  good  an 
opinion  of  yourself,  and  have  asked  for  your  lesson, 
which  you  shall  have  from  me  once  and  for  all.  Have 
you  forgotten  the  days  when  you  used  to  bring  docu- 
ments from  the  office  to  my  father,  and  did  not  dare 
to  sit  down  in  my  presence,  when  you  used  to  receive 
gifts  from  my  hand  on  feast-days  ?  If  you  were  an 
{A  honest  man  no  one  would  reproach  you.  But  you 
L''\  have,  as  my  nephew  says,  accumulated  stolen  wealth, 
and  it  has  been  endured  out  of  weakness.  You  should 
hold  your  tongue,  and  repent  in  your  old  age  of  your 
evil  life.  But  you  are  bursting,  intoxicated  with 
pride.  Sober  yourself  and  bow  your  head.  Before 
you  stands  Tatiana  Markovna  Berezhkov,  and  also 
my  nephew  Boris  Pavlovich  Raisky.  If  I  had  not 
restrained  him  he  would  have  thrown  you  out  of  the 
house,  but  I  prefer  that  he  should  not  soil  his  hands 
with  you  ;  the  lackeys  are  good  enough." 

As  she  stood  there  with  blazing  eyes,  she  bore  a 
close  resemblance  to  a  portrait  of  one  of  her  ancestors 
that  hung  on  the  wall.  Tychkov  turned  his  eyes 
this  way  and  that  seemingly  beside  himself  with 
rage. 

"  I  shall  write  to  St.  Petersburg,"  he  gasped,  "  the 
town  is  in  danger."  Then  he  slunk  out,  so  agitated 
by  her  furious  aspect  that  he  dared  not  raise  his  eyes 
to  her  face. 

Tatiana  Markovna  maintained  her  proud  bearing, 
though  her  fingers  grasped  nervously  at  her  shawl. 
Raisky  approached  her  hesitatingly,  seeing  in  her, 
not  his  aunt,  but  another,  and  to  him  an  almost 
unknown  woman. 

"  I  did  not  understand  the  majesty  of  your  tempera- 
ment. But  I  make  my  bow,  not  as  a  grandson  before 
to  an  honoured  grandmother,  but  as  man  to  woman. 
I  offer  you  my  admiration  and  respect,  Tatiana 
Markovna,  best  of  women,"  he  said,  kissing  her  hand. 

"  I  accept  your  courtesy,  Boris  Pavlovich,  as  an 
honour  which  I  have  deserved.  Do  you  accept 
for  your  honourable  championship  the  kiss,  not  of 
a  grandmother,  but  of  a  woman." 


THE    PRFXIPICE  121 

As  she  kissed  him  on  the  cheek,  he  received  another 
kiss  from  the  other  side. 

"  This  kiss  is  from  another  woman,"  said  Vera 
in  a  low  voice  as  she  left  the  room,  before  Raisky's 
outstretched  arms  could  reach  her. 

"  Vera  and  I  have  not  spoken  to  one  another,  but 
we  have  both  understood  you.  We  do,  in  fact, 
talk  very  little,  but  we  resemble  one  another,"  said 
Tatiana  Markovna. 

"  Granny,  you  are  an  extraordinary  woman  !  " 
cried  Raisky,  looking  at  her  with  as  much  enthusiasm 
as  if  he  saw  her  for  the  first  time. 

"  Drive  to  the  Governor's,  Borushka,  and  tell  him 
exactly  what  has  happened  so  that  the  other  party 
may  not  be  first  with  his  lying  nonsense.  I  am  going 
to  beg  Paulina  Karpovna's  pardon." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

For  three  days  the  impression  of  this  Sunday  morning 
breakfast  remained  with  Raisky.  He  had  been  sur- 
prised by  this  sudden  transformation  of  Tatiana 
Markovna  from  grandmother  and  kindly  hostess  into 
a  lioness,  but  he  had  been  still  more  agitated  by 
Vera's  kiss.  He  could  have  wept  for  emotion,  and 
would  like  to  have  built  new  hopes  on  it,  but  it  was 
a  kiss  that  led  no  further,  a  flash  of  lightning  immedi- 
ately extinguished, 

Raisky  kept  his  promise,  and  neither  went  to  Vera's 
room,  nor  followed  her  ;  he  saw  her  only  at  meals 
and  then  rarely  talked  to  her.  He  succeeded  in 
hiding  from  her  the  fact  that  she  still  occupied  his 
thoughts  ;  he  would  like  to  have  wiped  out  of  her 
recollection  his  hasty  revelation  of  himself  to  her. 

Then  he  began  a  portrait  of  Tatiana  Markovna,  and 
occupied  himself  seriously  with  the  plan  of  his  novel. 
With  Vera  as  the  central  figure,  and  the  scene  his  own 
estate  and  the  bank  of  the  Volga  his  fancy  took  shape 


122  THE    PRECIPICE 

and  the  secret  of  artistic  creation  became  clear  to 
him. 

It  chanced  once  or  twice  that  he  found  himself 
walking  with  Vera.  Gaily  and  almost  indifferently  he 
poured  out  for  her  his  store  of  thought  and  knowledge, 
even  of  anecdote,  as  he  might  do  to  any  amiable, 
clever  stranger,  without  second  thoughts  or  any  wish 
to  reap  an  advantage.  He  led  in  fact  a  peaceful, 
pleasant  life,  demanding  nothing  and  regretting 
nothing.  He  perceived  with  satisfaction  that  Vera 
no  longer  avoided  him,  that  she  confided  in  him 
and  drew  closer  to  him  ;  she  would  herself  come  to  his 
room  to  fetch  books,  and  he  made  no  effort  to  retain 
her. 

They  often  spent  the  afternoon  with  Tatiana 
Markovna.  Vera  apparently  liked  to  hear  him  talk, 
and  smiled  at  his  jokes,  tfiough  from  time  to  time 
she  would  get  up  suddenly  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence 
when  he  was  reading  aloud  or  talking,  and  with  some 
slight  excuse,  go  out  and  not  appear  again  for  hours. 
He  made  no  effort  to  follow  her. 

He  found  recreation  with  friends  in  the  town,  driving 
occasionally  with  the  Governor  or  taking  part  with 
Marhnka  and  Vera  in  some  rural  entertainment. 

The  month  which  Mark  had  set  as  a  limit  for  their 
wager,  was  nearly  over,  and  Raisky  felt  himself  free 
from  passion.  At  least  he  thought  so,  and  put  down 
all  his  symptoms  to  the  working  of  his  imagination  and 
to  curiosity.  On  some  days  even  Vera  appeared 
to  him  in  the  same  light  as  Marlinka.  He  saw  in 
them  two  charming  young  girls,  only  late  left  school 
with  all  the  ideas  and  adorations  of  the  schoolgirl, 
with  the  schoolgirl's  dream-theory  of  life,  which  is 
only  shattered  by  experience.  He  told  himself  that 
he  was  absolutely  cold  and  indifferent,  and  in  a  position 
truthfully  to  call  himself  her  friend.  He  would  shortly 
leave  the  place,  but  before  that  he  must  visit 
"  Barabbas,"  take  his  last  pair  of  trousers,  and  warn 
him  against  making  a  wager. 

He  went  to  Leonti  to  ask  where  Mark  was  to  be 
found  and  discovered  them  both  at  breakfast. 


THE    PRECIPICE  123 

"  You  might  develop  into  a  decent  individual," 
cried  Mark  to  him,  "  if  you  were  a  little  bolder." 

"  You  mean  it"  I  had  the  boldness  to  shoot  my  neigh- 
bour or  to  storm  an  inn  by  night." 

"  How  will  you  take  an  inn  by  storm  ?  Besides, 
there  is  no  need,  since  your  aunt  has  her  own  guest- 
house. Many  thanks  for  having  chased  that  old 
swine  from  your  house,  I  am  told  in  conjunction 
with  Tatiana  Markovna.     Splendid  !  " 

"  Where  did  you  hear  that  ?  " 

"  The  whole  town  is  talking  of  it.  I  wanted  to 
come  and  show  my  respect  to  you,  when  I  suddenly 
heard  that  you  were  on  friendly  terms  with  the  Gover- 
nor, had  invited  him  to  your  house,  and  that  you  and 
your  aunt  had  stood  on  your  hind  paws  before  him. 
That  is  abominable,  when  I  thought  you  had  only 
invited  him  to  show  him  the  door." 

"  That  is  what  is  called  bourgeois  courage,  I  believe." 

"  I  don't  know  what  it  is  called,  but  I  can  best  give 
you  an  example  of  the  kind  of  courage.  For  some 
time  the  police  inspector  has  been  sniffing  round 
our  vegetable  garden,  so  probably  his  Excellency 
has  been  kind  enough  to  show  an  interest  in  me,  and 
to  enquire  after  my  health  and  amusements.  Well, 
I  am  training  a  couple  of  bull-dogs,  and  I  hadn't 
had  them  a  week  before  the  garden  was  clear  of  cats. 
I  have  them  ready  at  dark,  and  if  the  Colonel  or  his 
suite  arrive,  I  shall  let  my  beasts  loose.  Of  course 
it  will  happen  by  accident." 

"  I  have  come  to  say  goodbye,  for  I  am  leaving  here 
shortly." 

"  You  are  going  away  ?  "  asked  Mark  in  aston- 
ishment, then  aided  in  a  low,  serious  voice,  "  I  should 
like  to  have  a  word  with  you." 

"  Speak,  by  all  means.  Is  it  a  question  of  money 
again  ?  " 

"  Money  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  but  it  is  not 
of  that  I  wish  to  speak  to  you.  I  will  come  to  you 
later.  I  cannot  speak  of  that  now,"  he  said  looking 
significantly  at  Koslov's  wife  to  indicate  that  he  could 
not  explain  himself  in  her  presence. 


124  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  No  one  will  let  you  go  ?  "  whispered  Juliana 
Andreevna.  "  I  have  not  once  spoken  to  you  out 
of  hearing  of  my  husband." 

"  Have  you  brought  the  money  with  you,"  asked 
Mark  suddenly,  "  the  three  hundred  roubles  for  the 
wager  ?  " 

"  Where  is  the  pair  of  trousers  ?  "  asked  Raisky 
ironically. 

"  I  am  not  joking  ;  you  must  pay  me  my  three 
hundred  roubles." 

"  Why  ?     I  am  not  in  love  as  you  see." 

"  I  see  that  you  are  head  over  ears  in  love." 

"  How  do  you  see  that." 

"  In  your  face." 

"  The  month  is  past,  and  with  it  the  wager  at  an 
end.  As  I  don't  need  the  trousers  I  \vi\\  make  you 
a  present  of  them  to  go  with  the  coat." 

"  How  can  you  go  away  ?  "  complained  Leonti. 
"  And  the  books " 

"  What  books  ?  " 

"  Your  books.  See  for  yourself  by  the  catalogue 
that  they  are  all  right." 

"  I  have  made  you  a  present  of  them." 

"  Be  serious  for  a  moment.  Where  shall  I  send 
them  ?  " 

"  Goodbye.  I  have  no  time  to  spare.  Don't  come 
to  me  with  the  books,  or  I  will  burn  them.  And 
3^ou,  wise  man,  who  can  tell  a  lover  by  his  face, 
farewell.  I  don't  know  whether  we  shall  meet 
again." 

"  Where  is  the  money  ?  It  isn't  honest  not  to 
surrender  it.  I  see  the  presence  of  love,  which  like 
measles  has  not  yet  come  out,  but  soon  will.  Your 
face  is  already  red.  How  tiresome  that  I  fixed  a 
limit,  and  so  lose  three  hundred  roubles  by  my  own 
stupidity." 

"  Goodbye." 

"  You  will  not  go,"  said  Mark  with  decision. 

"  I  shall  have  another  opportunity  of  seeing  you, 
Koslov.     I  am  not  starting  until  next  week." 

"  You  will  not  go,"  repeated  Mark. 


THE    PRECIPICE  125 

"  What  about  your  novel  ?  "  asked  Leonti.  "  You 
intended  to  finish  it  here." 

"  I  am  already  near  the  end  of  it,  though  there 
is  still  some  arranging  to  be  done,  which  I  can  do  in 
St.  Petersburg." 

"  You  will  not  end  your  romance  either,  neither  the 
paper  one  nor  the  real  one."  said  Mark. 

Raisky  was  about  to  answer,  but  thought  better 
of  it,  and  was  quickly  gone. 

"  Why  do  3^ou  think  he  won't  finish  the  novel  ?  " 
asked  Leonti. 

"  He  is  only  half  a  man,"  replied  Mark  with  a  scorn- 
ful, bitter  laugh. 

Raisky  walked  in  the  direction  of  home.  His 
victory  over  himself  seemed  so  assured  that  he  was 
ashamed  of  his  earlier  weakness.  He  pictured  to 
himself  how  he  would  now  appear  to  her  in  a  new  and 
surprising  guise,  bold,  deliberately  scornful,  with 
neither  eyes  nor  desire  for  her  beauty  ;  and  he  pictured 
her  astonishment  and  sorrow. 

In  his  impatience  to  see  the  effect  of  this  new  develop- 
ment in  himself  he  stole  into  her  room  and  crossed 
the  carpet  without  betraying  his  presence.  She  sat 
with  her  elbows  on  the  table,  reading  a  letter,  written 
as  he  noticed  on  blue  paper  in  irregular  lines  and  sealed 
with  common  blackish-brown  sealing  wax. 

"  Vera  !  "  he  said  in  a  low  voice. 

She  shrank  back  with  such  obvious  terror  that  he 
too  trembled,  then  quickly  put  the  letter  in  her  pocket. 

They  looked  at  one  another  without  stirring. 

"  You  are  busy.  Excuse  my  coming,"  he  said, 
and  took  a  step  backward,  as  if  to  leave  her. 

She  made  no  answer,  but,  gradualh^  recovering  her 
self-possession,  and  without  removing  her  eyes  from 
his  face  she  advanced  towards  him  with  her  hand  still 
in  her  pocket. 

"  It  must  be  a  very  interesting  letter  and  a  great 
secret,"  he  said  with  a  forced  laugh,  "  since  you  conceal 
it  so  quickly." 

With  her  eyes  still  upon  him  she  sat  down  on  the  divan. 

"  Show  me  the  letter,"  he  laughed,  betraying  his 


126  THE    PRECIPICE 

agitation  by  a  tremor  of  the  voice.  "  You  will  not 
show  it  ?  "  he  went  on  as  she  looked  at  him  in  amaze- 
ment and  pressed  her  hand  tighter  in  her  pocket. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  I  don't  need  to  read  it.  What  possible  interest 
could  I  have  in  another  person's  letter  ?  I  only  wanted 
a  proof  of  your  confidence,  of  your  friendly  disposition 
towards  me.  You  see  my  indifference.  See,  I  am 
not  as  I  was,"  he  said,  telling  himself  at  the  same  time 
that  the  letter  obsessed  him. 

She  tried  to  read  in  his  face  the  indifference  in  which 
he  was  insisting.  His  face  indeed  wore  an  aspect  of 
indifference,  but  his  voice  sounded  as  if  he  were  plead- 
ing for  alms. 

"  You  will  not  show  it,"  he  said.  "  Then  God  be 
with  you,"  and  he  turned  to  the  door. 

"  Wait,"  she  said,  putting  her  hand  in  her  pocket 
and  drawing  out  a  letter  which  she  showed  him. 

He  looked  at  both  sides,  and  glanced  at  the  signature , 
Pauline  Kritzki. 

"  That  is  not  the  letter,"  he  said,  returning  it. 

"  Do  you  see  another  ?  "  she  asked  drily. 

He  replied  that  he  had  not,  fearing  that  she  might 
accuse  him  of  spying,  and  at  her  request  began  to  read  : 

"  Ma  belle  chamante  divine  Vera  Vassilievna !  I  am 
enraptured  and  fall  on  my  knees  before  your  dear,  noble, 
handsome  cousin  ;  he  has  avenged  me,  and  I  am  triumphant 
and  weep  for  joy.  He  was  great.  Tell  him  that  he  is  ever 
my  knight,  that  I  am  his  devoted  slave.  Ah,  how  I  admire 
him,  I  would  say — the  word  is  on  the  tip  of  my  tongue — but 
I  dare  not.  Yet  why  should  I  not  ?  Yes,  I  love  him,  I  adore 
him.     Everyone  must  adore  liim.  .  .  . 

Here  Raisky  attempted  to  return  the  letter,  but 
Vera  bade  him  continue,  as  there  was  a  request  for 
him.     He  skipped  a  few  lines  and  proceeded  : — 

"  Implore  your  cousin  (he  adores  you.  Do  not  deny  it,  for 
I  have  seen  his  passionate  glances.  What  would  I  not  give 
to  be  in  your  place). 

"  Implore  your  cousin,  darling  Vera  Vassilievna,  to  paint 
my  portrait.  I  don't  really  care  about  the  portrait,  but  to 
be  with  an  artist  to  admire  him,  to  speak  to  liim,  to  breathe 
the^same  air  with  him  !  Ma  paitvre  trie,  jc  deviens  jolle.  Je 
compte  sur  vons,  ma  belle  et  bonne  aniie,  et  j' attends  la  nponse." 


THE    PRECIPICE  127 

"  What  answer  shall  I  give  her  ?  "  asked  Vera,  as 
Raisky  laid  the  letter  on  the  table. 

He  was  thinking  of  the  other  letter,  wondering  why 
she  had  hidden  it,  and  did  not  hear  her  question. 

"  May  I  write  that  you  agree  ?  " 

"  God  forbid  !  on  no  account." 

"  How  is  it  to  be  done  then  ?  She  wants  to  breathe 
the  same  air  as  you." 

"  I  should  stifle  in  that  atmosphere." 

"  But  if  I  ask  you  to  do  it  ?  "  whispered  Vera. 

"  You,  what  difference  can  it  make  to  you  ?  "  he 
asked  trembling. 

"  I  should  like  to  say  something  pleasant  to  her," 
she  returned,  but  did  not  add  that  she  seized  this  means 
of  detaching  him  from  herself.  Paulina  Karpovna 
would  not  hghtly  let  him  out  of  her  hands. 

"  Should  you  accept  it  as  a  sign  of  friendship  if  I 
fulfilled  your  wish  ?  Well,  then,"  as  she  nodded, 
"  I  make  two  conditions,  one  that  you  should  be 
present  at  the  sittings.  Otherwise  I  should  be  clearing 
out  at  the  first  sitting.  Do  you  agree  ?  "  Then, 
as  she  nodded  unwillingly,  "  the  second  is  that  you 
show  me  the  other  letter." 

"  Which  letter  ?  "  .         . 

"  The  one  you  hid  so  quickly  in  your  pocket." 

"  There  isn't  another." 

"  You  would  not  have  hidden  this  letter  in  terror ; 
will  you  show  the  other  ?  " 

"  You  are  beginning  again,"  she  said  reproachfully. 

"  You  need  not  trouble.  I  was  only  jesting.  But 
for  God's  sake  do  not  look  on  me  as  a  despot  or  a 
spy  ;  it  was  mere  curiosity.  God  be  with  you  and 
your  secrets." 

"  I  have  no  secrets,"  she  returned  drily  as  he  rose 
to  go. 

"  Do  you  know  that  I  am  soon  leaving  ?  "  he  asked 
suddenly. 

"  I  heard  so  ;  is  it  true  ?  " 

"  Why  do  you  doubt  ?  " 

She  dropped  her  eyes  and  said  nothing. 

"  You  will  be  glad  for  me  to  go  ?  " 


128  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  in  a  whisper. 

"  Why,"  he  said  sadly,  and  came  nearer. 

She  thought  for  a  moment,  drew  out  another  letter, 
glanced  through  it,  carefully  scratching  out  a  word 
or  a  line  here  and  there,  and  handed  it  to  him. 

"  Read  that  letter,"  she  said,  again  slipping  her 
hand  into  her  pocket. 

He  began  to  read  the  delicate  handwriting  :  "I 
am  sorry,  dear  Natasha,"  and  then  asked,  "  Who  is 
Natasha  ?" 

"  The  priest's  wife,  my  school  friend." 

"  Ah  !  the  pope's  wife.  It  is  your  own  letter. 
That  is  interesting,"  and  he  became  absorbed  in  the 
reading. 

"  I  am  sorry,  dear  Natasha,"  the  letter  ran,  "  that  I  have 
not  written  to  you  since  my  return.  As  usual  I  have  been 
idle,  but  I  had  other  reasons,  which  you  shall  learn.  The 
chief  reason  you  already  know  (here  some  words  were  scratched 
out),  which  agitates  me  very  much.  But  of  that  we  will  speak 
when  we  meet. 

"  The  other  reason  is  the  arrival  of  our  relative,  Boris 
Pavlovich  Raisky.  For  my  misfortune  he  scarcely  ever 
leaves  the  house,  so  that  for  a  fortnight  I  did  hardly  anything 
except  hide  from  him.  What  an  abundance  of  reason,  of 
different  kinds  of  knowledge,  of  brilliance,  of  talent  he  brought 
with  him,  and  with  it  all  what  unrest.  He  upsets  the  whole 
household.  He  had  hardly  arrived  before  he  was  seized  with 
the  firm  conviction  that  not  only  the  estate,  but  all  that  lived 
on  it,  were  his  property.  Taking  his  stand  on  a  relationship, 
which  hardly  deserves  the  name,  and  on  the  fact  that  he  knew 
us  when  we  were  httle,  he  treated  us  as  if  we  were  children  or 
schoolgirls.  Although  I  have  hidden  myself  from  him,  I  have 
only  just  succeeded  in  preventing  him  from  seeing  how  I 
sleep  and  dream,  and  what  I  hope  and  wait  for. 

"  This  pursuit  has  almost  made  me  ill,  and  I  have  seen  no 
one,  written  to  no  one.  I  feel  like  a  prisoner.  It  is  as  if  he 
were  playing  with  me,  perhaps  quite  against  his  own  will. 
One  day  he  is  cold  and  indifferent,  the  next  his  eyes  are  ablaze, 
and  I  fear  him  as  I  would  a  madman.  The  worst  of  all  seems 
to  me  to  be  that  he  does  not  knov/  himself,  so  that  no  reliance 
can  be  placed  on  his  plans  and  promises  ;  he  decides  on  one 
course,  and  the  next  day  takes  another.  He  liimself  says  he 
is  nervous,  susceptible  and  passionate,  and  he  may  be  right. 
He  is  no  play  actor,  and  does  not  disguise  himself  ;  he  is,  I 
think,  too  sensible  and  well-bred,  indeed,  too  honest,  for  that. 

"  He  is  by  way  of  being  an  artist,  draws,  writes,  improvises 


THE    PRECIPICE  129 

very  nicely  on  the  piano,  and  dreams  of  art.  Yet  it  seems  to 
me  that  he  does  substantially  nothing,  but  is  spending  his 
life,  as  he  says,  in  the  adoration  of  beauty  ;  he  is  a  lover  by 
temperament,  like  (do  you  remember  ?)  Dashenka  Sferaech- 
kin,  who  fell  in  love  with  a  Spanish  prince,  whose  portrait 
she  had  seen  in  a  German  calendar,  and  would  admit  no  one, 
not  even  the  piano-tuner,  Kish.  But  Boris  Pavlovich  is 
full  of  kindness  and  honour,  is  upright,  gay,  original,  but  all 
these  quaUties  are  so  disconnected  and  uncertain  in  their 
expression  that  we  don't  know  what  to  make  of  them.  Now 
he  seeks  my  friendslaip,  but  I  am  afraid  of  him,  am  afraid  he 
may  do  anything,  am  afraid  (here  some  lines  were  crossed 
out).  Ah,  if  only  he  would  go  away.  It  is  terrible  to  think 
he  may  one  day  (here  again  words  were  crossed  out). 

"  And  I  need  one  thing — rest.  The  doctor  says  I  am 
nervous,  must  spare  myself,  and  avoid  all  agitation,  ThanK 
God,  he  is  also  attached  to  Grandmother,  and  I  am  left 
in  peace.  I  do  not  want  to  step  out  of  the  circle  I  have 
drawn  for  myself  ;  and  nobody  else  should  cross  the  line.  In 
its  sanctity  lies  my  peace  and  my  whole  happiness. 

"  If  Raisky  oversteps  this  line,  the  only  course  that  remains 
to  me  is  to  fly  from  here.  That  is  easy  to  say,  but  where  ? 
And  then  I  have  some  conscience  about  it,  because  he  is  so 
good,  so  kind  to  me  and  my  sister,  and  means  to  make  a  gift 
to  us  of  this  place,  this  Paradise,  where  I  have  learned  to  live 
and  not  to  vegetate.  It  lies  on  my  conscience  that  he  should 
squander  these  undeserved  tokens  of  affection,  that  he  tries  to 
be  brilliant  for  my  sake,  and  to  awaken  in  me  some  affection, 
although  I  have  denied  him  every  hope.  Ah,  if  he  only  knew 
how  vain  his  efforts  are. 

"  Now  I  will  tell  you  about  him.  ..." 

The  letter  went  no  further,  and  Raisky  looked  at 
the  lines  as  if  he  were  trying  to  read  behind  them. 
Vera  had  said  practically  nothing  about  herself  ; 
she  remained  in  the  shadow,  while  the  whole  garish 
light  fell  on  him. 

"  There  was  another  letter,"  he  said  sharply, 
"  written  on  blue  paper." 

Vera  had  not  left  the  room,  but  someone's  hand 
was  on  the  lock. 

"  Who  is  there  ?  "  asked  Raisky  with  a  start. 

In  the  doorway  appeared  Vassilissa's  anxious  face. 

"  It's  I,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice.  "  It's  a  good 
thing  you  are  here,  Boris  Pavlovich  ;  they  are  asking 
for  you.  Please  make  haste.  There  is  nobody  in 
the  hall.     Yakob  is  at  church.  Egorka  has  been  sent 


130  THE    PRECIPICE 

to  the    Volga  for  some  fish,    and   I  am  alone  with 
Pashutka." 

"  Who  is  asking  for  me  ?  " 

"  A  gendarme  from  the  Governor.  The  Governor 
asks  you  to  go  to  see  him,  at  once,  if  possible,  if  not 
to-morrow  morning.     The  business  is  pressing." 

"  Very  well.     I  will  go." 

"  Please,  as  quickly  as  possible.  Then  he  has  also 
come." 

"  Who  ?  " 

"  The  man  they  would  like  to  horsewhip.  He  has 
made  himself  at  home  in  the  hall,  and  is  waiting  for 
you.  The  Mistress  and  Marfa  Vassilievna  have  not 
yet  returned  from  the  town." 

"  Didn't  you  ask  his  name  ?  " 

"  He  gave  his  name,  but  I  have  forgotten.  He  is 
the  man  who  stayed  the  night  with  you  when  you 
were  drinking.  Please,  Boris  Pavlovich,  be  quick. 
Pashutka  and  I  have  locked  ourselves  in." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Because  we  were  afraid.  I  climbed  out  of  the 
window  into  the  yard  to  come  and  tell  you.  If  only 
he  does  not  nose  anything  out." 

Raisky  went  with  her,  laughing.  He  sent  a  message 
by  the  gendarme  that  he  would  be  with  the  Governor 
in  an  hour.  Then  he  sought  out  Mark  and  led  him 
into  his  room. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  spend  the  night  with  me  ?  "  he 
asked  ironically. 

"  I  am  indeed  a  nightbird,"  answered  Mark,  who 
looked  anxious.  "  I  receive  too  much  attention 
in  the  daytime,  and  it  puts  less  shame  on  your  Aunt's 
house.  The  magnificent  old  lady,  to  show  Tychkov 
the  door.  But  I  have  come  to  you  on  important 
business,"  he  said,  looking  serious. 

"  You  have  business  !     That  is  interesting." 

"  Yes,  more  serious  than  yours.  To-day  I  was 
at  the  police-station,  not  exactly  paying  a  call.  The 
police  inspector  had  invited  me,  and  I  was  politely 
fetched  with  a  pair  of  grey  horses." 

"  What  has  happened  ?  " 


THE    PRECIPICE  131 

"  A  trifling  thing.  I  had  lent  books  to  one  or  two 
people.  .  .  ." 

"  Perhaps  mine,  that  you  had  taken  from  Leonti  ?  " 

"Those  and  others — here  is  the  list,"  he  said,  handing 
him  a  slip  of  paper. 

"  To  whom  did  you  give  the  books  ?  " 

"  To  many  people,  mostly  young  people.  One  fool, 
the  son  of  an  advocate,  did  not  understand  some 
French  phrases,  and  showed  the  book  to  his  mother, 
who  handed  it  on  to  the  father,  and  he  in  his  turn 
to  the  magistrate.  The  magistrate,  having  heard  of 
the  name  of  the  author,  made  a  great  commotion 
and  informed  the  Governor.  At  first  the  lad  would 
not  give  me  away,  but  when  they  applied  the  rod  to 
him  he  gave  my  name,  and  to-day  they  summoned 
me  to  court." 

"  And  what  line  did  you  adopt  ?  " 

"  What  line  ?  "  said  Mark  laughing,  as  he  looked 
at  Raisky.  "  They  asked  me  whose  books  the}''  were, 
and  where  I  had  got  them,  and  I  said  from  you  ; 
some  you  had  brought  with  you  ;  others,  Voltaire, 
for  instance,  I  had  found  in  your  library." 

"  I'm  much  obliged.  Why  did  you  put  this  honour 
on  me  ?  " 

"  Nobody  will  meddle  with  you,  since  you  are  in 
his  Excellency's  favour.  Then  you  are  not  living 
here  under  official  compulsion.  But  I  shall  be  sent 
off  to  a  third  place  of  exile  ;  this  is  already  the  second. 
At  any  other  time  this  would  be  a  matter  of  indiffer- 
ence to  me,  but  just  now,  for  the  time  being,  at  least, 
I  should  like  to  stay  here." 

"  And  what  else  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  I  only  wanted  to  tell  you  what  I  have 
done,  and  to  ask  whether  you  will  take  it  on  yourself 
or  not." 

"  But  what  if  I  won't,  and  I  don't  intend  to." 

"  Then  instead  of  your  name  I  will  give  Koslov's. 
He  is  growing  mouldy  here.  Let  him  go  to  prison. 
He  can  take  up  his  Greeks  again  later." 

"No,  he  will  never  take  them  up  again  if  he  is 
robbed  of  his  position,  and  of  his  bread  and  butter." 


132  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  There  you  are  right,  my  conclusions  were  illogical. 
It  would  be  better  for  you  to  take  it  on  yourself." 

"  What  are  you  to  me  that  I  should  do  so  ?  " 

"  On  the  former  occasion  I  needed  money,  and  you 
had  what  I  lacked.  This  is  the  same  case.  No  one 
will  touch  you,  while  I  should  be  sent  off.  I  am  now 
logical  enough." 

"  You  ask  a  remarkable  service.  I  am  just  going 
to  the  Governor,  who  has  sent  for  me.     Good-bye." 

"  He  has  sent  for  you,  then  ?  " 

"  What  am  I  to  do  ?     What  should  I  say  ?  " 

"  Say  that  you  are  the  hero  of  the  piece,  and  the 
Governor  w]ll  quash  the  whole  matter,  for  he  does 
not  like  sending  special  reports  to  St.  Petersburg. 
With  me  it  is  quite  different.  I  am  under  police 
supervision,  and  it  is  his  duty  to  return  a  report  every 
month  as  to  my  circumstances  and  my  mode  of  life. 
However,"  he  added  with  apparent  indifference, 
"  do  as  you  like.  And  now  come,  for  I  have  no  more 
time  either.  Let  us  go  as  far  as  the  wood  together, 
and  I  will  climb  down  the  precipice.  I  will  wait 
at  the  fisherman's  on  the  island  to  see  how  the  matter 
ends." 

At  the  edge  of  the  precipice  Mark  vanished  into 
the  bushes.  Raisky  drove  to  the  Governor's,  and 
returned  home  about  two  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

Although  he  had  gone  so  late  to  bed,  he  rose  early. 
The  windows  of  Vera's  room  were  still  darkened. 
She  is  still  sleeping,  he  thought,  and  he  went  into  the 
garden,  where  he  walked  up  and  down  for  an  hour, 
waiting  for  the  drawing  back  of  the  lilac  curtain. 
He  hoped  Marina  would  cross  the  yard,  but  she  did 
not  come.  Then  Tatiana  Markovna's  window  was 
opened,  the  pigeons  and  the  sparrows  began  to  gather 
on  the  spot  were  they  were  wont  to  receive  crumbs 
from  Marfinka,  doors  opened  and  shut,  the  grooms 
and  the  servants  crossed  the  yard,  but  the  lilac  curtain 
remained  untouched.  The  gloomy  Savili  came  out 
of  his  room  and  looked  silently  round  the  yard.  When 
Raisky  called  him  he  came  towards  him  with  slow 
steps. 


THE    PRECIPICE  133 

"  Tell  Marina  to  let  me  know  when  Vera  Vassilievna 
is  dressed." 

"  Marina  is  not  here." 

"  Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  She  started  at  dawn  to  accompany  the  young 
lady  over  the  Volga." 

"  What  young  lady,  Vera  Vassilievna  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  How  did  they  go,  and  with  whom  ?  " 

"  In  the  brichka,  with  the  dun  horse.  They  will 
return  in  the  evening,"  he  added. 

"  Do  you  think  they  will  return  to-day  ?  "  asked 
Raisky  with  interest. 

"  Assuredly.  Prokor  with  the  horse,  and  Marina 
too.  They  will  see  the  young  lady  safely  there,  and 
return  immediately." 

Raisk}'  looked  at  Savili  without  seeing  him,  and  they 
stood  opposite  one  another  for  some  time  speechless. 

"  Have  you  any  further  orders  ?  "  Savili  asked  at 
length. 

Raisky  recovered  himself,  and  inquired  whether 
Savili  was  awaiting  Marina.  Savili  replied  by  a 
curse  on  his  wife. 

"  Why  do  you  beat  her  ?  "  asked  Raisky.  "  I 
have  been  intending  for  a  long  time  to  advise  you  to 
leave  her  alone." 

"  I  don't  beat  her  any  more." 

"  Since  when  ?  " 

"  For  the  last  week,  since  she  has  stayed  quietly 
at  home." 

"  Go,  I  have  no  orders.  But  do  not  beat  Marina. 
It  will  be  better  both  for  you  and  her  if  you  give 
her  complete  liberty." 

Raisky  passed  on  his  way  with  bent  head,  glancing 
sadly  at  Vera's  window.  Savili 's  eyes  too  were  on 
the  ground,  and  he  had  forgotten  to  put  his  cap  on 
again  in  his  amazement  at  Raisky 's  last  words. 

"  Passion  once  more  !  "  thought  Raisky.  "  Alas, 
for  Savili,  and  for  me  !  " 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Since  Vera's  departure  Raisky  had  experienced  the 
meaning  of  unmitigated  sohtude.  He  felt  as  if  he 
were  surrounded  by  a  desert,  now  that  he  was  deprived 
of  the  sight  of  her,  although  nature  around  him  was 
radiant  and  smiling.  Tatiana  Markovna's  anxious 
solicitude,  Marfinka's  charming  rule,  her  songs,  her 
lively  chatter  with  the  gay  and  youthful  Vikentev,  the 
arrival  and  departure  of  guests,  the  eccentricities  of 
the  freakish  Paulina  Karpovna — none  of  these  things 
existed  for  him.  He  only  saw  that  the  lilac  curtain 
was  motionless,  the  blinds  had  been  drawn  down,  and 
that  Vera's  favourite  bench  remained  empty. 

He  did  not  want  to  love  Vera,  and  if  he  had  wished 
it  he  ought  still  to  resist,  for  Vera  had  denied  him  every 
hope  ;  indeed  her  beauty  seemed  to  have  lost  its 
power  over  him,  and  he  was  now  drawn  to  her  by  a 
different  attraction. 

"  What  is  Vera's  real  nature  ?  "  he  asked  his  aunt 
one  day, 

"  You  see  for  yourself.  She  recognises  only  her  own 
understanding  and  her  own  will.  She  was  born  in 
my  arms,  and  has  spent  her  whole  life  with  me,  yet  I 
do  not  know  what  is  in  her  mind,  what  are  her  likes 
and  dislikes.  I  do  not  force  her,  or  worry  her.  so  that 
she  can  hardly  think  herself  unfortunate.  You  see 
for  yourself  that  my  girls  live  with  me  as  free  as  the 
birds  of  the  air." 

"  You  are  right,  Grandmother.  It  is  not  fear,  or 
anxiety,  or  the  power  of  authority  that  binds  you  to 
them,  but  the  tenderest  of  home  ties.  They  adore 
you,  and  so  they  ought  to  do,  but  it  is  the  fruit  of 
their  upbringing.  Why  should  worn-out  conceptions 
of  duty  be  pressed  upon  them,  and  why  should  they 
live  like  caged  birds  ?     Let  them  dip  into  the  reservoir 


THE    PRECIPICE  135 

oi  life  itse4f.  A  bird  imprisoned  in  a  cage  loses  the 
capacit}'  for  freedom,  and,  even  if  the  door  of  his  cage 
is  opened,  he  will  not  take  flight." 

"  I  have  never  tried  to  exercise  restraint  on  Marfinka 
or  Vera.  Supposing  a  respectable,  rich  man  of  old 
and  blameless  family  were  to  ask  for  Marfinka's  hand, 
and  she  refused  it,  do  you  think  I  should  persuade 
her  ?  " 

"Well,  Granny,  I  leave  Marfinka  to  you,  but  do 
not  attempt  to  do  anything  with  Vera.  You  must 
not  restrain  her  in  any  way,  must  leave  her  her  freedom. 
One  bird  is  born  for  the  cage,  another  for  freedom. 
Vera  will  be  able  to  direct  her  own  life." 

"  Do  I  restrain  or  repress  her  ?  I  am  like  the  police 
inspector  who  only  sees  that  there  is  an  outward 
semblance  of  order  ;  I  do  not  penetrate  below  the 
surface  unless  my  assistance  is  invited." 

"  Tell  me,  Grandmother,  what  sort  of  a  woman  is 
this  priest's  wife,  and  what  are  the  links  that  bind  her 
to  Vera  ? 

"  Natalie  Ivanovna  and  Vera  made  friends  at  a 
boarding  school.     She  is  a  good,  modest  woman." 

"  Is  she  sensible  ?  Possibly  a  woman  of  weight  and 
character  ?  " 

"  Oh  no  !  She  is  not  stupid,  is  fairly  educated,  a 
great  reader,  and  fond  of  dress.  The  pope,  who  is 
much  liked  by  the  local  landowner,  is  not  poor,  and 
lives  in  comfort  on  his  own  land.  He  is  a  sensible 
man,  belongs  to  the  younger  generation,  but  he  leads 
too  worldly  a  life  for  the  priesthood,  as  is  the  custom 
in  landed  society.  He  reads  French  books,  and 
smokes,  for  instance  ;  things  that  are  unsuited  to  the 
priestly  garb.  Every  glance  of  Veroshka's.  every 
mood  of  hers  is  sacred  to  Natalie  Ivanovna  ;  whatever 
she  may  say  is  wise  and  good.  This  suits  Vera,  who 
does  not  want  a  friend,  but  an  obedient  servant  ;  that 
is  why  she  loves  the  pope's  wife." 

"  And  Vera  loves  you  too  ?  "  asked  Raisky,  who 
wanted  to  know  if  Vera  loved  anybody  else  except  the 
pope's  wife. 

"  Yes,  she  loves  me,"  answered  Tatiana  Markovna 


136  THE    PRECIPICE 

with  conviction,  "  but  in  her  own  fashion.  She  never 
shows  it,  and  never  will,  though  she  loves  me  and  would 
be  ready  to  die  for  me." 

"  And  you  love  Vera  ?  " 

"  Ah,  how  I  love  her  !  "  she  sighed,  and  tears  stood 
in  her  eyes.  "  vShe  does  not  know,  but  perhaps  one 
day  she  may  learn." 

"  Have  3^ou  noticed  how  thoughtful  she  has  been 
for  some  time.  Is  she  not  in  love  ?  "  he  added  in  a 
half-w^hisper,  but  immediately  regretted  the  question, 
which  it  was  too  late  to  withdraw.  His  aunt  started 
back  as  if  a  stone  had  hit  her. 

"  God  forbid  !  "  she  cried,  making  the  sign  of  the 
Cross.  "  This  sorrow  has  been  spared  us.  Do  not 
disturb  my  peace,  but  confess,  as  you  would  to  the 
priest,  if  you  know  anything." 

Raisky  was  annoyed  with  himself,  and  made  an 
effort,  partially  successful,  to  pacify  his  aunt. 

"  I  have  not  noticed  anything  more  than  you  have. 
She  would  hardly  be  likely  to  say  anything  to  me  that 
she  kept  secret  from  you." 

"  Yes,  yes,  it  is  true  she  will  say  nothing.  The 
pope's  wife  knows  everything,  but  she  would  rather 
die  than  betray  Vera's  secrets.  Her  own  secrets  she 
scatters  for  anyone  to  pick  up,  but  not  Vera's." 

"  With  whom  could  she  fall  in  love  ?  "  remarked 
Tatiana  Markovna  after  a  silence.  "  There  is  no  one 
here." 

"  No  one  ?  "  interrupted  Raisky  quickly, 

Tatiana  Markovna  shook  her  head,  then  went  on 
ifter  a  while  : — 

"  There  might  be  the  Forester.  He  is  an  excellent 
individual,  and  has  shown  an  inclination,  I  notice. 
He  would  be  certainly  an  admirable  match  for  Vera, 
but  .  .  .  ." 

"  Well  ?  " 

"  She  is  so  strange.  Heaven  knows  how  any  one 
would  dare,  how  any  man  would  woo  her.  He  is 
splendid — well-established  and  rich.  The  wood  alone 
vields  thousands." 


THE    PRECIPICE  137 

"  Is  the  Forester  young,  educated,  a  man  that 
counts  ?  " 

VassiHssa  entered  and  announced  Pauhna  Karpovna. 

"  The  evil  one  himself  has  brought  her,"  grumbled 
Tatiana  Markovna.  "  Show  her  in,  and  be  quick  with 
breakfast." 


CHAPTER   XV 

One  evening  a  thunderstorm  was  brewing.  The  black 
clouds  lay  entrenched  beyond  the  Volga,  and  the  air 
was  as  hot  and  moist  as  in  a  bath-house.  Here  and 
there  over  the  fields  and  roads  rose  pillars  of  dust. 

In  the  house  Tatiana  Markovna  sent  her  household 
hurrying  to  close  the  stove  pipes,  the  doors  and  the 
windows.  She  was  not  only  afraid  of  a  thunderstorm 
herself,  but  she  was  not  pleased  if  her  fear  was  not 
shared  by  everybody  else — that  would  be  freethinking. 
So  at  each  flash  of  lightning  everyone  must  make  the 
sign  of  the  Cross,  on  pain  of  being  thought  a  blockhead. 
She  chased  Egorka  from  the  ante-room  into  the 
servants'  room,  because  during  the  approach  of  the 
storm  he  would  not  stop  giggling  with  the  maids. 

The  storm  approached  majestically,  with  the  dull 
distant  noise  of  the  thunder,  with  a  storm  of  sand, 
when  suddenly  there  was  a  flash  of  lightning  over  the 
village  and  a  sharp  clap  of  thunder. 

Disregarding  the  passionate  warnings  of  his  aunt, 
Raisky  took  his  cap  and  umbrella  and  hurried  into 
the  park,  anxious  to  see  the  landscape  under  the 
shadow  of  the  storm,  to  find  new  ideas  for  his  drawings, 
and  to  observe  his  own  emotions.  He  descended  the 
cliff,  and  passed  through  the  undergrowth  by  a  winding, 
hardly  perceptible  path.  The  rain  fell  by  bucketfuls, 
one  flash  of  lightning  followed  another,  the  thunder 
rolled,  and  the  whole  prospect  was  veiled  in  mist  and 
cloud.  He  soon  regretted  his  intention.  His  soaked 
umbrella  did  not  protect  him  from  the  rain,  which 
whipped  his  face  and  poured  down  on  his  clothes,  and 


138  THE    PRECIPICE 

his  feet  sank  ankle-deep  in  the  muddy  ground.  He 
was  continually  knocking  against  and  stumbling  over 
unevennesses  in  the  ground  or  tree  stumps,  treading 
in  holes  and  pools.  He  was  obliged  to  stand  still 
until  a  flash  of  lightning  lighted  up  a  few  yards  of  the 
path.  He  knew  that  not  far  away  lay  a  ruined  arbour, 
dating  from  the  time  when  the  precipice  formed  part 
of  the  garden.  Not  long  before  he  had  seen  it  in  the 
thicket,  but  now  it  was  indiscoverable,  however  much 
he  would  have  preferred  to  observe  the  storm  from 
its  shelter.  And  since  he  did  not  wish  to  retrace  the 
horrible  path  by  which  he  had  come,  he  resolved  to 
make  his  way  to  the  nearest  carriage  road,  to  climb 
over  the  twisted  hedge  and  to  reach  the  village. 

He  could  hardly  drag  his  soaked  boots  free  of  the 
mud  and  weeds,  and  he  was  dazzled  by  the  lightning 
and  nearly  deafened  by  the  noise.  He  confessed  that 
he  might  as  well  have  admired  the  storm  from  the 
shelter  of  the  house.  In  the  end  he  struck  the  fence, 
but  when  he  tried  to  leap  over  it  he  slipped  and  fell 
in  the  ditch.  With  difficulty  he  dragged  himself  out 
and  clambered  over.  There  was  little  traffic  on  the 
steep  and  dangerous  ridge,  used  for  the  most  part  as 
a  short  cut  by  empty  one-horse  carriages  with  their 
quiet  beasts. 

He  closed  his  dripping  umbrella,  and  put  it  under 
his  arm.  Dazzled  by  the  lightning,  slipping  every 
minute,  he  toiled  painfully  up  the  slope,  and  when  he 
reached  the  summit  he  heard  close  by  the  noise  of 
wheels,  the  neighing  of  horses  and  the  cry  of  the 
coachman.  He  stood  on  one  side  and  pressed  himself 
against  the  fence  to  allow  the  passage  of  the  carriage, 
since  the  road  was  very  narrow.  In  a  flash  of  lightning 
Raisky  saw  before  him  a  char-a-banc  with  several 
persons  in  it,  drawn  by  two  well-kept,  apparently 
magnificent  horses.  In  the  light  of  another  flash  he 
was  amazed  to  recognise  Vera. 

"  Vera,"  he  cried  loudly. 

The  carriage  stood  still. 

"  Who  is  there  ?  Is  it  you,  cousin,  in  this 
weather  ?  " 


THE    PRECIPICE  139 

"  And  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  hurrying  home," 

"  So  do  I  want  to.  I  came  down  the  precipice,  and 
lost  my  way  in  the  bushes. 

"  Who  is  driving  you  ?     Is  there  room  for  me." 

"  Plenty  of  room,"  said  a  masculine  voice.  "  Give 
me  your  hand  to  get  up." 

Raisky  gave  his  hand,  and  was  hauled  up  by  a 
strong  arm.  Next  to  Vera  sat  Marina,  and  the  two, 
huddled  together  like  wet  chickens,  were  trying  to 
protect  themselves  from  the  drenching  rain  by  the 
leather  covering. 

"  Who  is  with  you  ?  "  asked  Raisky  in  a  low  voice. 
"  Whose  horses  are  these,  and  who  is  driving  ?  ''''    - 

"  Ivan  Ivanovich." 

"  I  don't  know  him." 

"  The  Forester,"  whispered  Vera,  and  he  would 
have  repeated  her  words  if  she  had  not  nudged  him 
to  keep  silence.     "  Later,"  she  said. 

He  remembered  the  talk  with  his  aunt,  her  praises 
of  the  Forester,  her  hints  of  his  being  a  good  match. 
This  then  was  the  hero  of  the  romance,  the  Forester. 
He  tried  to  get  a  look  at  him,  but  only  saw  an  ordinary 
hat  with  a  wide  brim,  and  a  tall,  broad-shouldered 
figure  wrapped  in  a  rain  coat. 

The  Forester  handled  the  reins  skilfully  as  he  drove 
up  the  steep  hill,  cracked  his  whip,  whistled,  held  the 
horses'  heads  with  a  firm  hand  when  they  threatened 
to  shy  at  a  flash  of  lightning,  and  turned  round  to 
those  sheltered  in  the  body  of  the  vehicle. 

"  How  do  you  feel,  Vera  Vassilievna,"  he  inquired 
anxiously.     "  Are  you  very  cold  and  wet  ?  " 

"  I  am  quite  comfortable,  Ivan  Ivanovich  ;  the 
rain  does  not  catch  me." 

"  You  must  take  my  raincoat.  God  forbid  that 
you  should  take  cold.  I  should  never  forgive  myself 
all  my  life  for  having  driven  you." 

"  You  weary  me  with  your  friendly  anxiety.  Don't 
bother  about  anything  but  your  horses." 

"  As    you    please,"    replied    Ivan    Ivanovich    with 


140  THE    PRECIPICE 

hasty  obedience,  turning  to  his  horses,  and  he  cast 
only  an  occasional  anxious  glance  towards  Vera. 

They  drove  past  the  village  to  the  door  of  the  new 
house.  Ivan  Ivanovich  jumped  down  and  hammered 
on  the  door  with  his  riding  whip.  Handing  over 
the  care  of  his  horses  to  Prokor,  Tarasska  and  Egorka, 
who  hurried  up  for  the  purpose,  he  stood  by  the  steps, 
took  Vera  in  his  arms,  and  carried  her  carefully  and 
respectfully,  like  a  precious  burden,  through  the  ranks 
of  wide-eyed  lackeys  and  maid-servants  bearing  lights, 
to  the  divan  in  the  hall. 

Raisky  followed,  wet  and  dirty,  without  once  remov- 
ing his  eyes  from  them. 

The  Forester  went  back  into  the  ante-room,  made 
himself  as  respectable  as  he  could,  shook  himself, 
pushed  his  fingers  through  his  hair,  and  demanded 
a  brush. 

Meanwhile  Tatiana  Markovna  bade  Vera  welcome 
and  reproached  her  for  venturing  on  such  a  journey  ; 
she  must  change  her  clothes  throughout  and  in  a 
few  moments  the  samovar  would  be  brought  in,  and 
supper  served. 

"  Quick,  quick.  Grandmother  I  "  said  Vera,  rubbing 
herself  affectionately  against  her.  "  Let  us  have  tea, 
soup,  roast  and  wine.  Ivan  Ivanovich  is  hungry." 
She  knew  how  to  quiet  her  aunt's  anxiety. 

"  That's  splendid.  It  shall  be  served  in  a  minute. 
Where  is  Ivan  Ivanovich  ?  " 

"  I  am  making  myself  a  bit  decent,"  cried  a  voice 
from  the  ante-room. 

Egor,  Yakob  and  Stepan  hummed  round  the  Forester 
as  if  he  had  been  a  good  horse.  Then  he  entered 
the  hall  and  respectfully  kissed  the  hands  of  Tatiana 
Markovna,  and  of  Marfinka,  who  had  only  just  decided 
to  get  out  of  bed,  where  she  had  hidden  herself  for 
fear  of  the  storm. 

"  It  is  not  necessary,  Marfinka,"  said  her  aunt, 
"  to  hide  from  the  storm.  You  should  pray  to  God, 
and  will  not  then  be  struck." 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  thunder  and  lightning,  of  which 


THE    PRECIPICE  141 

the  peasants  are  usually  the  victims,  but  it  makes  me 
nervous,"  replied  Marfinka. 

Raisky,  with  the  water  still  dripping  off  him,  stood 
in  the  window  watching  the  guest.  Ivan  Ivanovich 
Tushin  .was  a  tall,  broad-shouldered  man  of  thirty- 
eigEt,  with  strongly-marked  features,  a  dark,  thick 
beard,  and  large  grey  rather  timid  eyes,  and  hands 
disproportionately  large,  with  broad  nails.  He  wore 
a  grey  coat  and  a  high-buttoned  vest,  with  a  broad 
turned-down  home-spun  collar.  He  was  a  fine  man, 
but  with  marked  simplicity,  not  to  put  a  fine  point  on 
it"  In  his  glance  and  his  manners.  Raisky  wondered 
jealously  whether  he  was  Vera's  hero.  Why  not  ? 
Women  like  these  tall  men  with  open  faces  and  highly 
developed  muscular  strength.     But  Vera 

"  And  you,  Borushka,"  cried  Tatiana  Markovna 
suddenly,  clapping  her  hands.  "  Look  at  your  clothes. 
Egorka  and  the  rest  of  you  !  Where  are  you  ?  There 
is  a  pool  on  the  floor  round  you,  Borushka.  You  will 
be  ill.  Vera  was  driving  home,  but  there  was  no  reason 
for  you  to  go  out  into  the  storm.  Go  and  change 
your  clothes,  Borushka,  and  have  some  rum  in  your 
tea.  Ivan  Ivanovich,  you  ought  to  go  with  him. 
Are  you  acquainted  ?  My  nephew  Boris  Raisky — 
Ivan  Ivanovich  Tushin." 

"  We  have  already  made  acquaintance,"  said  Tushin, 
with  a  bow.  "  We  picked  up  your  nephew  on  the 
way.  ]\Iany  thanks,  I  need  nothing,  but  you,  Boris 
Pavlovich,  ought  to  change." 

"  You  must  forgive  an  old  woman  for  telling  you 
you  are  all  half  mad.  No  animal  leaves  his  hole  in 
weather  like  this.  Yakob,  shut  the  shutters  closer. 
Fancy  crossing  the  Volga  in  weather  like  this." 

"  My  carriage  is  solid,  and  has  a  cover.  Vera 
Vassilievna  sat  as  dry  as  if  she  were  in  a  room." 

"  But  in  this  terrible  storm." 

"  Only  old  women  are  afraid  of  a  storm." 

"  I'm  much  obliged." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Tushin  in  embarrass- 
ment. "  It  slipped  from  my  tongue.  I  meant  ordinary 
women." 


142  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  God  will  forgive  you,"  laughed  Tatiana  Markovna. 
"  It  won't  indeed  hurt  you,  but  Vera  !  Were  you 
not  afraid  ?  " 

"  One  does  not  think  of  fear  with  Ivan  Ivanovich." 

"  If  Ivan  Ivanovich  went  bear-hunting,  would  you 
go  with  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Grandmother.  Take  me  with  you  sometimes, 
Ivan  Ivanovich." 

"  With  pleasure,  Vera  Vassilievna,  in  winter.  You 
have  only  to  command." 

"  That  is  just  like  her,  not  to  mind  what  her  Grand- 
mother thinks." 

"  I  was  joking,  Grandmother." 

"  I  know  you  would  be  equal  to  it.  Had  you 
no  scruples  about  hindering  Ivan  Ivanovich ;  this 
distance.   ..." 

"  It  is  my  fault.  As  soon  as  I  heard  from  Natalie 
Ivanovna  that  Vera  Vassilievna  wanted  to  come 
home,  I  asked  for  the  pleasure,"  he  said  looking  at 
Vera  with  a  mixed  air  of  modesty  and  respect. 

"  A  nice  pleasure  in  this  weather." 

"  It  was  lighter  while  we  were  driving,  and  Vera 
Vassilievna  was  not  afraid." 

"  Is  Anna  Ivanovna  well  ?  " 

"  Thank  you.  She  sends  her  kindest  regards, 
and  has  sent  you  some  preserves,  also  some  peaches 
out  of  the  orangery,  and  mushrooms.  They  are  in 
the  char-a-banc." 

"  It  is  very  good  of  her.  We  have  no  peaches.  I 
have  put  aside  for  her  some  of  the  tea  that  Borushka 
brought  with  him." 

"  Many  thanks." 

"  How  could  you  let  your  horses  climb  the  hill  in 
such  weather  ?     Were  they  terrified  by  the  storm  ?  " 

"  My  horses  obey  me  like  dogs.  Should  I  have 
driven  Vera  Vassilievna  if  there  were  any  danger  ?  " 

"  You  are  a  good  friend,"  interrupted  Vera.  "  I 
have  absolute  trust  both  in  you,  and  in  your  horses. 

At  this  moment  Raisky  returned,  having  changed 
his  clothes.  He  had  noticed  the  glance  which  Vera 
gave  Tushin,  and  had  heard  her  last  remark. 


THE    PRECIPICE  143 

"  Thank  you,  Vera  Vassilievna,"  answered  Tushin. 
"  Don't  forget  what  you  have  just  said.  If  you  ever 
need  anything,  if.  .  .  ." 

"  If  there  is  another  such  raging  storm,"  said 
Tatiana  Markovna. 

"  Any  storm,"  added  Tushin  firmly. 

"  There  are  other  storms  in  life,"  said  Tatiana 
Markovna  with  a  sigh. 

"  Whatever  they  are,  if  they  break  on  you.  Vera 
Vassilievna,  seek  refuge  in  the  forest  over  the  Volga, 
where  lives  a  bear  who  will  serve  you,  as  the  fairy- 
tale tells." 

"  I  will  remember,"  returned  Vera  laughing.  "  If 
a  sorcerer  wants  to  carry  me  off,  as  in  the  fairy-tale, 
I  will  take  refuge  in  the  wood." 

Raisky  saw  Tushin's  glance  of  devotion  and  modest 
reserve,  he  heard  his  words,  so  quietly  and  modestly 
spoken,  and  thought  the  letter  written  on  the  blue 
paper  could  be  from  no  one  else.  He  looked  at  Vera 
to  see  if  she  were  moved  or  would  relapse  into  a  stony 
silence,  but  she  showed  no  sign.  Vera  appeared 
to  him  in  a  new  light.  In  her  manner  and  her  words 
to  Tushin  he  saw  simplicity,  trust,  gentleness  and 
affection  such  as  she  showed  to  no  one  else,  not  even 
to  her  aunt  or  to  Marfinka. 

"  She  is  on  her  guard  with  her  Grandmother,"  he 
thought,  "  and  takes  no  heed  of  Marfinka.  But 
when  she  looks  at  Tushin,  speaks  to  him,  or  gives 
her  hand  it  is  plain  to  see  that  they  are  friends." 

The  Forester,  who  had  business  to  do  in  the  town, 
stayed  for  three  days  with  Tatiana  Markovna,  and 
for  three  days  Raisky  sought  for  the  key  to  this  new 
character  and  to  his  place  in  Vera's  heart. 

They  called  Ivan  Ivanovich  the  "  Forester,"  because 
he  lived  on  his  estate  in  the  midst  of  the  forest.  He 
loved  the  forest,  growing  new  timber  on  the  one  hand 
and  on  the  other  allowing  it  to  be  cut  down  and  loaded 
up  on  the  Volga  for  sale.  The  several  thousand 
dessiafins  of  surrounding  forest  were  exceedingly  well 
managed,  and  nothing  was  lacking  ;  there  was  even 
a   steam   saw.     He    attended   to   everything  himself. 


144  THE    PRECIPICE 

and  in  his  spare  time  hunted  and  fished  and  amused  I 
himself   with   his   bachelor   neighbours.     From    time   i 
to  time  he  sought  a  change  of  scene,  and  then  arranged  i 
with   his   friends   to   drive  in   a  three-horse  carriage, 
drawn   by  fresh  horses,    forty   versts   away    to    the 
seat  of  a  landed  proprietor,  where  for  three  days  the 
fun   was    fast    enough.     Then  they  returned,  put  up 
with  Tushin,  or  waked  the  sleepy  town.       In  these 
festivals  all  class  distinctions  were  lost. 

After  this  dissipation  he  would  again  remain  lost 
to  the  world  for  three  months  in  his  forest  home,  see 
after  the  wood  cutting,  and  go  hunting  with  two 
servants,  and  occasionally  have  to  lie  up  with  a 
wounded  arm.  The  life  suited  him.  He  read  works 
on  agriculture  and  forestry,  took  counsel  with  his 
German  assistant,  an  experienced  forester,  who  was 
nevertheless  not  allowed  to  be  the  master.  All  orders 
must  come  from  Tushin  himself,  and  were  carried 
out  by  the  help  of  two  foremen  and  a  gang  of  hired 
labourers.  In  his  spare  time  he  liked  to  read  French 
novels,  the  only  distraction  that  he  permitted  himself. 
There  was  nothing  extraordinary  in  a  retired  life  like 
this  in  the  wide  district  in  which  he  lived. 

Raisky  learnt  that  Tushin  saw  Vera  at  the  pope's 
house,  that  he  went  there  expressly  when  he  heard 
that  Vera  was  a  visitor.  Vera  herself  told  him  so. 
She  and  Natalie  Ivanovna,  too,  visited  Tushin's 
property,  known  as  "  Smoke,"  because  far  away 
from  the  hills  could  be  seen  the  smoke  rising  from 
the  chimneys  of  the  house  in  the  depth  of  the  forest. 

Tushin  lived  with  his  spinster  sister,  Anna  Ivanovna, 
to  whom  Tatiana  Markovna  was  much  attached. 
Tatiana  Markovna  was  delighted  when  she  came  to 
town.  There  was  no  one  with  whom  she  liked  more  to 
drink  coffee,  no  one  to  whom  she  gave  her  confidence 
in  the  same  degree  ;  the\'  shared  the  same  liking  for 
household  management,  the  same  deep-rooted  self- 
esteem  and  the  same  respect  for  family  tradition. 

Of  Tushin  himself  there  was  little  more  to  say  than 
was  revealed  on  a  first  occasion  ;  his  character  lay 
bare  to  the  daylight,  with  no  secret,  no  romantic  side. 


THE    PRECIPICE  145 

He  possessed  more  than  plain  good  sense,  for  his 
understanding  did  not  derive  from  the  brain  alone,  but 
from  the  heart  and  will.  Men  of  his  type,  especially 
when  they  care  nothing  for  the  superfluous  things  of 
life,  but  keep  their  eyes  fixed  undeviatingly  on  the 
necessary,  do  not  make  themselves  noticed  in  the 
crowd  and  rarely  reach  the  front  of  the  world's  stage. 

Raisky  noticed  in  the  Forester's  behaviour  towards 
Vera  a  constant  adoration  expressed  by  his  glance 
and  his  voice,  and  sometimes  by  his  timidity  ;  on  her 
side  an  equally  constant  confidence,  frankness  and 
affection,  nothing  more.  He  did  not  surprise  in  her 
a  single  sign  or  gesture,  a  single  word  or  glance  that 
might  have  betrayed  her.  Tushin  showed  pure 
esteem  and  a  consistent  readiness  to  serve  her  as 
her  bear,  and  no  more.  Surely  he  was  not  the  man 
who  wrote  the  letter  on  the  blue  paper. 

After  the  Forester  had  taken  his  leave,  the  house- 
hold fell  back  into  its  regular  routine.  Vera  seemed 
untroubled  and  in  possession  of  a  quiet  happiness, 
and  showed  herself  kind  and  affectionate  to  her  aunt 
and  Marfinka.  Yet  there  were  days  when  unrest 
suddenly  came  upon  her,  when  she  went  hastily  to 
her  room  in  the  old  house,  or  descended  the  precipice 
into  the  park,  and  displayed  a  gloomy  resentment  if 
Raisky  or  Marfinka  ventured  to  disturb  her  sohtude. 
After  a  short  interval  she  resumed  an  even,  svmpathetic 
temper,  helped  in  the  household,  looked  over  her 
aunt's  accounts,  and  even  paid  visits  to  the  ladies  in 
the  town.  She  discussed  literary  questions  with 
Raisky,  who  reahsed  from  the  opinions  she  expressed 
that  her  reading  was  wide  and  enticed  her  into 
thorough-going  discussions.  They  read  together, 
though  not  regularly.  Sometimes  a  wild  intoxication 
flared  up  in  her,  but  it  was  a  disconcerting  merriment. 
One  evening,  when  she  suddenly  left  the  room,  Tatiana 
Markovna  and  Raisky  exchanged  a  long  questioning 
glance. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  Vera  ?  "  she  began.  "  She 
seems  to  have  recovered  from  her  malady  of  the 
soul." 


146  THE    PRECIPICE 

'*  I  think  it  is  more  serious  than  before." 
"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Borushka  ?     You 
can  see  how  gay  and  friendly  she  has  become." 

"  Is  she  Hke  the  Vera  you  have  known.  I  fear  that 
this  is  not  gladness,  but  rather  agitation,  even  intoxi- 
cation." 

"  You  are  right.     She  is  changed." 
"  Don't  you  notice  that  she  is  ecstatic  ?  " 
"  Ecstatic  ?  "  repeated  Tatiana  Markovna  anxiously. 
"  Why  do  you  say  that,  especially  just  at  night  ?     I 
shan't   sleep.     The    ecstasy    of    a    young   girl    spells 
disaster." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Not  only  Raisky,  but  Tatiana  Markovna  gave  up 
her  attitude  of  acquiescence,  and  secretly  began  to 
watch  Vera  narrowly.  Tatiana  Markovna  became 
thoughtful,  she  even  neglected  the  affairs  of  the  house 
and  farm,  left  the  keys  lying  on  the  table,  did  not 
speak  to  Savili,  kept  no  accomits,  and  did  not  drive 
out  into  the  fields.  She  grew  melanchol}^  as  she 
sought  in  vain  how  she  might  seek  from  Vera  a  frank 
avowal,  or  find  means  to  avert  misfortune. 

Vera  in  love,  in  an  ecstasy  !  It  seemed  to  her  more 
than  small-pox  or  measles,  worse  even  than  brain 
fever.  And  with  whom  was  she  in  love  ?  God 
grant  that  it  were  Ivan  Ivanovich.  If  Vera  were 
married  to  him,  she  herself  would  die  in  peace.  But 
her  feminine  instinct  told  her  that  whatever  deep 
affection  the  Forester  cherished  for  Vera,  it  was 
reciprocated  by  nothing  more  than  friendship. 

Who  then  was  the  man  ?  Of  the  neighbouring 
landowners  there  was  only  Tushin  whom  she  saw  and 
knew  anything  of.  The  young  men  in  the  town,  the 
officers  and  councillors,  had  long  since  given  up  any 
hope  of  being  received  into  her  favour. 

She  looked  keenly  and  suspiciously  at  Vera  when  she 


THE    PRECIPICE  147 

came  to  dinner  or  tea,  and  tried  to  follow  her  into  the 
garden,  but  as  soon  as  Vera  was  aware  of  her  aunt's 
presence  she  quickened  her  steps  and  vanished  into 
the  distance. 

"  Spirited  away  like  a  ghost  !  "  said  Tatiana  Mar- 
kovna  to  Raisky.  "  I  wanted  to  follow  her,  but 
where,  with  my  old  limbs  ?  She  flits  like  a  bird  into 
the  woods,  into  the  bushes,  over  the  precipice." 

Raisky  went  immediately  into  the  park,  where  he 
met  Yakob,  and  asked  him  if  he  had  seen  the  young 
lady. 

"  I  saw  Vera  Vassilievna  just  now  by  the  chapel." 

"  What  was  she  doing  there  ?  " 

"  Praying." 

Raisky  went  to  the  chapel,  wondering  to  himself 
how  she  had  come  to  take  refuge  in  prayer.  On  the 
left  there  lay  in  the  meadow  between  the  park  and  the 
road,  a  lonely,  weather-beaten,  half-ruined  wooden 
chapel,  adorned  with  a  picture  of  the  Christ,  a  B37zan- 
tine  painting  in  a  bronze  frame.  The  ikon  had  grown 
dark  with  age,  the  paint  had  been  cracked  in  many 
places,  so  that  the  Christ  face  was  hardly  recognisable, 
but  the  eyelids  were  still  plainly  discernible,  and  the 
eyes  looked  out  dreamily  on  the  worshippers  ;  the 
folded  hands  were  also  preserved. 

Raisky  advanced  noiselessly  over  the  grass.  Vera 
was  standing  with  her  back  to  him,  her  face  turned 
towards  the  ikon,  unconscious  of  his  approach.  On 
the  grass  by  the  chapel  lay  her  straw  hat  and  sunshade. 
Her  hands  did  not  make  the  sign  of  the  Cross,  her 
lips  uttered  no  prayers,  her  whole  body  appeared 
motionless,  as  if  she  hardly  breathed ;  her  \\hole 
being  was  at  prayer. 

Involuntarily  Raisky  too  held  his  breath.  Is  she 
begging  for  happiness,  or  is  she  confiding  her  sorrow 
to  the  Crucified  ? 

Suddenly  she  awoke  from  her  prayer,  turned  and 
started  when  she  caught  sight  of  Raisky. 

"  \Vliat  are  you  doing  here  ?  "  she  said  severely. 

' '  Yakob  met  me  and  said  you  were  here  ;  so  I  came. 
Grandmother.  .  .  ." 


148  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  Since  you  mention  Grandmother,  I  will  point  out 
that  she  has  been  watching  me  for  some  time.  Do 
you  know  the  reason  ?  "  she  asked,  looking  straight 
into  his  eyes. 

"  I  think  she  always  does." 

"  No,  it  was  not  her  idea  to  watch  me.  Tell  me 
w'ithout  concealing  anything,  have  you  communicated 
to  her  your  suppositions  about  love  and  a  letter 
written  on  blue  paper  ?  " 

"  I  think  not  of  the  letter." 

"  Then  of  love.     I  must  know  what  you  said  ?  " 

"  We  were  speaking  of  you.  Grandmother  has 
her  own  questionings  as  to  why  you  are  so  serious  one 
moment  and  so  gay  the  next.  I  said  (it  is  a  long 
time  ago)  that  perhaps  you  were  in  love." 

"  And  Grandmother  ?  " 

"  She  was  terrified." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Chiefly  because  of  your  evident  excitement." 

"  Grandmother's  peace  of  mind  is  dear  to  me ; 
dearer,  perhaps,  than  you  think." 

"  She  told  me  herself  that  she  believed  in  your 
boundless  love  for  her." 

"  Thank  God  !  I  am  grateful  to  j^ou  for  repeating 
this  to  me.  Go  to  Grandmother  and  destroy  this 
curiosity  of  hers  about  my  being  in  love,  in  ecstasy. 
It  cannot  be  difficult  for  you,  and  you  will  fulfil  my 
wishes  if  you  love  me." 

"  What  would  I  not  do  to  prove  it  to  you.  Later 
in  the  evening.  .  .  ." 

"  No,  this  minute.  When  I  come  to  dinner  her 
eyes  are  to  look  on  me  as  before,  do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  will  go !  "  promised  Raisky,  but  did  not 
stir. 

"  Make  haste  !  " 

"  And  you  ?  " 

For  answer  she  pointed  in  the  direction  of  the 
house. 

"  One  word  more,"  she  said,  detaining  him.  "  You 
must  never,  never  talk  about  me  to  Grandmother, 
do  vou  understand  ?  " 


THE    PRECIPICE  149 

"  Agreed,  sister." 

She  motioned  him  to  be  gone,  and  when  turning 
into  an  avenue  he  looked  round  for  a  moment,  she 
had  vanished.  She  had,  as  Grandmother  said,  dis- 
appeared hke  a  ghost,  A  moment  later  there  was 
the  report  of  a  gun  from  the  precipice.  Raisky  wondered 
who  was  playing  tricks  there,  and  went  towards  the 
house. 

Vera  appeared  punctually  at  the  midday  meal. 
Keenly  as  he  looked  at  her,  Raisky  could  observe  no 
change  in  her.  Tatiana  Markovna  glanced  at  him 
once  or  twice  in  inquiry,  but  was  visibly  reassured 
when  she  saw  no  signs  of  anything  unusual.  Raisky 
had  executed  Vera's  commission,  and  had  alleviated 
her  acutest  anxiety,  but  it  was  impossible  to  reassure 
her  completely. 

Tatiana  Markovna  was  saddened  and  wounded  by 
the  lack  of  confidence  shown  her  by  Vera,  her  niece, 
her  daughter,  her  dearest  child,  entrusted  to  her  care 
by  her  mother.  Terror  overcame  her.  She  lay 
awake  anxiously  through  the  night,  she  questioned 
Marina,  sent  Marfinka  to  find  out  what  Vera  was 
doing,  but  without  result.  Suddenly  there  occurred 
to  her  what  seemed  to  her  a  good  plan  ;  as  she  put 
it  to  Raisky,  she  would  make  use  of  allegory.  She 
remembered  that  she  possessed  a  moral  tale  which 
she  had  read  and  wept  over  in  her  own  youth.  Its 
theme  was  the  disastrous  consequences  which  followed 
on  passion  and  disobedience  to  parents.  A  young 
man  and  a  girl  loved  one  another,  and  met  against 
the  will  of  their  parents.  She  stood  on  the  balcony 
beckoning  and  talking  to  him,  and  they  wrote  one 
another  long  epistles.  Others  intervened,  the  young 
girl  lost  her  reputation,  and  the  young  man  was  sent 
to  some  vague  place  in  America  by  his  father. 

Like  many  others  Tatiana  Markovna  pinned  her 
faith  to  the  printed  word,  especially  when  the  reading 
was  of  an  edifying  character.  So  she  took  her  talisman 
from  the  shelf,  where  it  lay  hidden  under  a  pile  of 
rubbish,  and  laid  it  on  the  table  near  her  work  basket. 
At  dinner  she  declared  to  the  two  sisters  her  desire 


150  THE    PRECIPICE 

that  they  should  read  aloud  to  her  on  alternate  even- 
ings, especially  in  bad  weather,  since  she  could  not 
read  very  much  on  account  of  her  eyes.  Generally 
speaking,  she  was  not  an  enthusiastic  reader,  and  only 
liked  to  listen  when  Tiet  Nikonich  read  aloud  to  her 
on  agricultural  matters  or  hygiene,  or  about  distressing 
occurrences  of  murder  or  arson. 

Vera  said  nothing,  but  Marfinka  asked  immediately 
whether  the  book  had  a  happy  ending. 

"  What  sort  of  book  is  it  ?  "  inquired  Raisky, 
picking  up  the  book  and  glancing  at  a  page  here  and 
there.  "  What  old  rubbish  have  you  discovered, 
Grandmother.  I  expect  you  read  it  when  you  were 
in  love  with  Tiet  Nikonich." 

"  Don't  be  foolish,  Boris  Pavlovich.  You  are  not 
asked  to  read." 

Raisky  took  his  departure,  and  the  room  was  left 
to  the  reading  party. 

Vera  was  unendurably  bored,  but  she  never  refused 
assent  to  any  definitely  expressed  wish  of  her  aunt's. 
At  last,  after  three  or  four  evenings,  the  point  was 
reached  where  the  lovers  exchanged  their  vows.  The 
tale  was  faultlessly  moral  and  horribly  dull.  Vera 
hardly  listened.  At  each  word  of  love  her  aunt 
looked  at  her  to  see  whether  she  was  touched,  whether 
she  blushed  or  turned  pale,  but  Vera  merely  yawned. 

On  the  last  evening  when  only  a  few  chapters  were 
left,  Raisky  stayed  in  the  room  when  the  table  was 
cleared  and  the  reading  began.  Vikentev,  too,  was 
present.  He  could  not  sit  quiet,  but  jumped  up 
from  time  to  time,  ran  to  Marfinka,  and  begged  to 
be  allowed  to  take  his  share  in  the  reading  When 
they  gave  him  the  book  he  inserted  long  tirades  of 
his  own  in  the  novel,  or  read  with  a  different  voice 
suited  to  each  character.  He  made  the  heroine  lisp 
in  a  mournful  whisper,  the  hero  speak  with  his  own 
natural  voice,  so  that  Marfinka  blushed  and  looked 
angrily  at  him,  and  the  stern  father  spoke  with  the 
voice  of  Niel  Andreevich.  At  last  Tatiana  Markovna 
took  the  book  from  him  with  an  intimation  to  him 
to  behave   reasonably,   whereupon   he  continued   his 


THE    PRECIPICE  151 

studies  in  character-mimicry  for  Marfinka's  benefit 
behind  her  back.  When  Marfinka  betrayed  him  he 
was  requested  to  go  into  the  garden  until  supper 
time  and  the  reading  went  on  without  him.  The 
catastrophe  of  the  tale  approached  at  last,  and  when 
the  last  word  was  read  and  the  book  shut  there  was 
silence. 

''  What  stupid  nonsense,"  said  Raisky  at  length,  and 
Marfinka  wiped  away  a  tear. 

"  What  do  you  think,  Veroshka  ?  "  asked  Tatiana 
Markovna. 

Vera  made  no  reply,  but  Marfinka  decided  it  was 
a  horrid  book  because  the  lovers  had  suffered  so  cruelly. 

"  If  they  had  followed  the  advice  of  their  parents, 
things  would  not  have  come  to  such  a  pass.  What 
do  you  think,  Veroshka  ?  " 

Vera  got  up  to  go,  but  on  the  threshold  she  stopped. 

"  Grandmother,"  she  said,  "  why  have  you  bothered 
me  for  a  whole  week  with  this  stupid  book  ?  "  And 
without  waiting  for  an  answer  she  glided  away,  but 
Tatiana  Markovna  called  her  back. 

"  Why,  Vera,  I  meant  to  give  you  pleasure." 

"  No,  you  wanted  to  punish  me  for  something.  In 
future  I  would  rather  be  put  for  a  week  on  bread 
and  water,"  and  kneeling  on  the  footstool  at  her 
aunt's  feet  she  added,  "  Good-night,  Grandmother." 

Tatiana  Markovna  stooped  to  kiss  her  and  whispered. 
"  I  did  not  want  to  punish  you,  but  to  guard  you 
against  getting  into  trouble  yourself." 

"  And  if  I  do,"  whispered  Vera  in  reply,  "  will  you 
have  me  put  in  a  convent  like  Cunigunde  ?  " 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  a  monster  like  those  bad 
parents  ?  It's  wicked.  Vera,  to  think  such  things 
of  me." 

"  I  know  it  would  be  wicked.  Grandmother,  and 
I  don't  think  any  such  thing.  But  why  warn  me 
with  such  a  silly  book  ?  " 

"  How  should  I  warn  you  and  guard  you,  my  dear. 
Tell  me  and  set  my  mind  at  rest." 

"  Make  the  sign  of  the  Cross  over  me,"  she  said 
after   a  moment's  hesitation,  and  when  her  aunt  had 


152  THE    PRECIPICE 

made  the  holy  sign.  Vera  kissed  her  hand  and  left 
the  room. 

"  A  wise  book,"  laughed  Raisky.  "  Well,  has  the 
beautiful  Cunigunde's  example  done  any  good  ?  " 

Tatiana  Markovna  was  grieved  and  in  no  mood 
for  joking,  and  sent  for  Pashutka  to  take  the  book 
to  the  servants'  room. 

"  You  have  brought  Vera  up  in  the  right  way," 
said  Raisky.  "  Let  Egorka  and  Marina  read  your 
allegory  together,  and  the  household  will  be  impeccable. ' ' 

Vikentev  called  Marfinka  into  the  garden,  Raisky 
went  to  his  room,  and  Tatiana  Markovna  sat  for  a 
long  time  on  the  divan,  absorbed  in  thought.  She 
had  lost  all  interest  in  the  book,  was  herself  sickened 
by  its  pious  tone,  and  was  really  ashamed  of  having 
had  recourse  to  so  gross  a  method.  Marina,  Yakob 
and  Vassilissa  came  one  after  another  to  say  that 
supper  was  ready,  but  Tatiana  Markovna  wanted  none. 
Vera  declined,  and  to  Marina's  astonishment  even 
Marfinka,  who  never  went  supperless  to  bed,  was  not 
hungry. 

Meanwhile  Egorka  had  got  wind  of  the  universal 
loss  of  appetite.  He  helped  himself  to  a  considerable 
slice  from  the  dish  with  his  fingers  to  taste,  as  he 
told  Yakob,  whom  he  invited  to  share  the  feast.  Yakob 
shook  his  head  and  crossed  himself,  but  nevertheless 
did  his  share,  so  that  when  Marina  came  to  clear  the 
table  the  fish  and  the  sweets  were  gone. 

The  mistress's  preparations  for  rest  were  made,  and 
quiet  reigned  in  the  house.  Tatiana  Markovna  rose 
from  the  divan  and  looked  at  the  ikon.  She  crossed 
herself,  but  she  was  too  restless  for  prayer,  and  did 
not  kneel  down  as  usual.  Instead  she  sat  down 
on  the  bed  and  began  to  go  over  her  passage  of  arms 
with  Vera.  How  could  she  learn  what  lay  on  the 
girl's  heart.  She  remembered  the  proverb  that  wisdom 
comes  with  the  morning,  and  lay  down,  but  not  that 
night  to  sleep,  for  there  was  a  light  tap  on  the  door, 
and  she  heard  Marfinka's  voice,  "  Open  the  door. 
Grandmother.     It's  me." 


THE    PRECIPICE  153 

"  What's  the  matter,  my  dear  ?  "  she  said,  as  she 
opened  the  door.  "  Have  you  come  to  say  good-night. 
God  bless  you  !     Where  is  Nikolai  Andreevich  ?  " 

But  she  was  terrified  when  she  saw  Marfinka's  face. 

"  Sit  down  in  the  armchair,"  she  said,  but  Marfinka 
clung  to  her. 

"  Lie  down,  Grandmother,  and  I  will  sit  on  the  bed 
beside  you.  I  will  tell  you  everything,  but  please 
put  out  the  light." 

Then  Marfijika  began  to  relate  how  she  had  gone 
with  Vikentev  into  the  park  to  hear  the  nightingales 
sing,  how  she  had  first  objected  because  it  was  so  dark. 

"  Are  you  afraid  ?  "  Vikentev  had  asked. 

"  Not  with  you,"  and  the}'  had  gone  on  hand  in  hand. 

"  How  dark  it  is  !  1  won't  go  any  farther.  Don't 
take  hold  of  my  hand  !  "  She  went  on  involuntarily, 
although  Vikentev  had  loosed  her  hand,  her  heart 
beating  faster  and  faster.  "  I  am  afraid,  I  won't 
go  a  step  farther,"  She  drew  closer  to  him  all  the  same, 
terrified  by  the  crackling  of  the  twigs  under  her  feet. 

"  Here  we  will  wait.     Listen  !  "  he  whispered. 

The  nightingale  sang,  and  Marfinka  felt  herself 
enveloped  in  the  warm  breath  of  night.  At  intervals 
her  hand  sought  Vikentev's,  but  when  he  touched 
hers  she  drew  it  back. 

*'  How  lovely,  Marfa  Vassilievna  !  What  an  en- 
chanted night  !  " 

She  nudged  him  not  to  disturb  the  song. 

"  Marfa  Vassilievna,"  he  whispered,  "  something  so 
good,  so  wonderful  is  happening  to  me,  something 
I  have  never  felt  before.  It  is  as  if  everything  in  me 
was  astir.  At  this  moment,"  he  went  on  as  she  remained 
silent,  "  I  should  like  to  fling  myself  on  horseback, 
and  ride,  ride,  till  I  had  no  breathe  left,  or  fling  myself 
into  the  Volga  and  swim  to  the  opposite  bank.  Do 
you  feel  anything  like  that  ?  " 

"  Let  us  go  away  from  here.  Grandmother  will 
be  angry." 

"  Just  a  minute  more.  How  the  nightingale  does 
sing  !     What  does  he  sing  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know." 


154  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  Just  what  I  should  Hke  to  say  to  you,  but  don't 
know  how  to  say." 

"  How  do  you  know  what  he  sings  ?  Can  you 
speak  nightingale  language  ?  " 

"  He  is  singing  of  love,  of  my  love  for  you,"  and 
startled  by  his  own  words  he  drew  her  hand  to  his 
lips  and  covered  it  with  kisses. 

She  drew  it  back,  and  ran  at  full  speed  down  the 
avenue  towards  the  house  ;  on  the  steps  she  waited 
a  moment  to  take  breath. 

"  Not  a  step  farther,"  she  cried  breathlessly,  clinging 
to  the  doorpost  as  he  overtook  her.     "  Go  home." 

"  Listen,  Marfa  Vassilievna,  my  angel,"  he  cried, 
falling  on  his  knees.     "  On  my  knees  I  swear.  ..." 

"  If  you  speak  another  word,  I  go  straight  to  Grand- 
mother." 

He  rose,  and  led  her  by  force  into  the  avenue. 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?  I  will  call,  I  won't  listen 
to  your  nightingale." 

"  You  won't  listen  to  it,  but  you  will  to  me." 

"  Let  me  go.  I  will  tell  Grandmother  every- 
thing." 

"  You  must  tell  her  to-night,  Marfa  Vassilievna. 
We  have  come  too  near  to  one  another  that  if  we  were 
suddenly  separated.  .  .  .  Should  you  like  that,  Marfa 
Vassilievna  ?     If  you  like  I  will  go  away  for  good." 

She  wept  and  seized  his  hand  in  panic,  when  he 
drew  back  a  step. 

"  You  love  me,  you  love  me,"  he  cried. 

"  Does  your  mother  know  what  you  are  saying 
to  me  ?  " 

"  Not  yet." 

"  Ought  you  to  say  it  then  ?     Is  it  honourable  ?  " 

"  I  shall  tell  her  to-morrow." 

"  What  if  she  will  not  give  her  blessing  ?  " 

"  I  won't  obey." 

"  But  I  will.  I  will  take  no  step  without  your 
Mother's  and  Grandmother's  consent,"  she  said, 
turning  to  go," 

"  As  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  am  sure  of  my  Mother's 
consent.     I    will    hurry    now    to    Kolchino,    and    my 


THE    PRECIPICE  155 

Mother  will  send  you  her  consent  to-morrow.  Marfa 
Vassilievna,  give  me  your  hand." 

"  What  will  Grandmother  say  ?  If  she  does  not 
forgive  me  I  shall  die  of  shame,"  she  said,  and  she 
hurried  into  the  house." 

"  Heavens,  what  will  Grandmother  say  ?  "  she 
wondered,  shutting  herself  up  in  her  room,  and  shaking 
with  fever.  How  should  she  tell  her  grandmother, 
and  should  she  tell  Veroshka  first.  She  decided  in 
favour  of  her  grandmother,  and  when  the  house  was 
quiet  slipped  to  her  room  like  a  mouse. 

The  two  talked  low  to  one  another  for  a  long  time. 
Tatiana  Markovna  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  over 
her  darling  many  times,  until  she  fell  asleep  on  her 
shoulder.  Then  she  carefully  laid  the  girl's  head  on 
the  pillow,  rose,  and  prayed  with  many  tears.  But 
more  heartily  than  for  Marfinka's  happiness  she  prayed 
for  Vera,  with  her  grey  head  bowed  before  the  cross. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

ViKENTEV  kept  his  word,  and  on  the  very  next  day 
brought  his  mother  to  Tatiana  Markovna,  he  himself 
taking  refuge  in  his  office,  where  he  sat  on  pins  and 
needles. 

His  mother,  still  a  young  woman,  not  much  over 
forty,  as  gay  and  full  of  life  as  he  himself  was,  had 
plenty  of  practical  sense.  They  kept  up  between 
themselves  a  constant  comic  war  of  words  ;  they  were 
for  ever  disputing  about  trifles,  but  when  it  came 
to  serious  matters,  she  proclaimed  her  authority  to 
him  with  quite  another  voice  and  another  manner. 
And  though  he  indeed  usually  began  by  protesting, 
he  submitted  to  her  will,  if  her  request  was  reasonable. 
An  unseen  harmony  underlay  their  visible  strife. 

That  night,  after  Marfinka  had  left  him,  Vikentev 
had  hurried  to  Kolchino.  He  rushed  to  his  mother, 
threw  his  arms  round  her  and   kissed   her.     When, 


156  THE    PRECIPICE 

nearly  smothered  by  his  embrace,  she  thrust  him 
from  her,  he  fell  on  his  knees  and  said  solemnly  : 
"  Mother,  strike  me  if  you  will,  but  listen.  The 
supreme  moment  of  my  life  has  arrived.    I  have.  ..." 

"  Gone  mad,"  she  supplied,  looking  him  up  and 
down. 

"  I  am  going  to  be  married,"  he  said,  almost  in- 
audibly. 

"  What  ?  Mavra,  Anton,  Ivan,  Kusma !  Come 
here,  quick  !  " 

Mavra  alone  responded  to  the  call. 

"  Call  everybody.  Nikolai  Andreevich  has  gone 
mad." 

"  I  am  not  joking,  and  I  must  have  an  answer  to- 
morrow." 

"  I  will  have  you  locked  up,"  she  said,  seriously 
disturbed  at  last. 

Far  into  the  night  the  servants  heard  heated 
arguments,  the  voices  of  the  disputants  now  rising 
almost  to  a  shout,  then  laughter,  then  outbursts  of 
anger  from  the  mistress,  a  gay  retort  from  him,  then 
dead  silence,  the  sign  of  restored  tranquillity.  Vikentev 
had  won  the  victory,  which  was  indeed  a  foregone 
conclusion,  for  while  Vikentev  and  Marfinka  were 
still  uncertain  of  their  feelings,  Tatiana  Markovna  and 
Marfa  Egorovna  had  long  before  realised  what  was 
coming,  and  both,  although  they  kept  their  own 
counsel,  had  weighed  and  considered  the  matter, 
and  had  concluded  that  the  marriage  was  a  suitable 
one. 

"  What  will  Tatiana  Markovna  say  ?  "  cried  Marfa 
Egorovna  to  her  son  the  next  morning  as  the  horses 
were  being  put  in.  "  If  she  does  not  agree,  I  will  never 
forgive  you  for  the  disgrace  it  will  bring  on  us,  do 
you  hear  ?  " 

She  herself,  in  a  silk  dress  and  a  lace  mantle,  with 
yellow  gloves  and  a  coquettish  fan,  might  have  been  a 
fiancee.  When  Tatiana  Markovna  was  informed 
of  the  arrival  of  Madame  Vikentev,  she  had  her  shown 
into  the  reception  room.  Before  she  herself  changed 
her  dress  to  receive  her,  Vassilissa  had  to  peer  through 


THE    PRECIPICE  157 

-    doorway  to  see  what  kind  of  toilette  the  guest 

1  made.     Then  Tatiana  Markovna  donned  a  rustHng 

!v  dress  with  a  silver  sheen,  over  which  she  wore 

I  Turkish  shawl ;  she  even  tried  to  put  on  a  pair  of 
v^wdmond  earrings,  but  gave  up  the  attempt  impatiently, 
telling  herself  that  the  holes  in  her  ears  had  grown 
together.  Then  she  sent  word  to  Vera  and  Marfinka 
to  change  their  dresses.  In  passing  she  told  Vassilissa 
to  set  out  the  best  table  linen,  and  the  old  silver  and 
glass  for  the  breakfast  and  the  dinner  table.  The 
cook  was  ordered  to'  serve  chocolate  in  addition  to 
the  usual  dishes,  and  sweets  and  champagne  were 
ordered.  With  folded  hands,  adorned  for  the  occasion 
with  old  and  costly  rings,  she  stepped  solemnly  into 
the  reception  room.  But  when  she  caught  sight  of 
her  guest's  pleasant  face  she  all  but  forget  the  import- 
ance of  the  moment,  but  pulled  herself  together  in 
time,  and  resumed  her  serious  aspect. 

Marfa  Egorovna  rose  in  friendly  haste  to  meet 
her  hostess,  and  began  :  "  What  ideas  my  mad  boy 
has  !  "  but  restrained  herself  when  she  saw  Madame 
Berezhkov's  attitude.  They  exchanged  ceremonious 
greetings.  Tatiana  Markovna  asked  the  visitor  to 
sit  on  the  divan,  and  seated  herself  stiffly  beside  her. 

"  What  is  the  weather  like  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Had 
you  a  windy  crossing  over  the  Volga  ?    ' 

"  There  was  no  wind." 

"  Did  you  come  by  the  ferry  ?  " 

"  In  the  boat.  The  caleche  was  brought  over  on 
the  ferry." 

"  Yakob,  Egorovna,  Petrushka  ?  Where  are  you  ? 
Why  don't  you  come  when  you  are  called  ?  Take 
out  the  horses,  give  them  fodder,  and  see  that  the 
coachman  is  well  looked  after." 

The  servants,  who  had  rushed  in  to  answer  the 
summons,  hurried  out.  Of  course  the  horses  had 
been  taken  out  while  Tatiana  Markovna  was  dressing, 
and  the  coachman  was  already  sitting  in  the  servants' 
room,  doing  full  justice  to  the  beer  set  before  him. 

"  No,  no,  Tatiana  Markovna,"  protested  the  visitor, 
"  I  have  come  for  half  an  hour  on  business." 


IS8  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  Do  you  think  you  will  be  allowed  to  go  ?  "  asked 
Tatiana  Markovna  in  a  voice  that  permitted  no  reply. 
"  You  have  come  a  long  way  from  over  the  Volga. 
Is  this  the  first  year  of  our  acquaintance  ?  Do  you 
want  to  insult  me  ?  " 

"  Ah,  Tatiana  Markovna,  I  am  so  grateful  to  you, 
so  grateful  !  •  You  are  just  like  a  relative,  and  how  you 
have  spoilt  my  Nikolai  !  " 

"  I  feel  sometimes  as  if  he  were  my  own  son," 
burst  from  Tatiana  Markovna,  whose  dignity  could 
hold  out  no  longer  against  these  friendly  advances. 

"  Yes,  you  are  so  kind  to  him,  Tatiana  Markovna, 
that,  presuming  on  your  kindness,  he  has  taken  it 
into  his  head.  ..." 

"  Well  ?  " 

"  He  begged  me  to  come  over  to  see  you,  and  he 
asks  for  the  hand  of  Marfa  Vassilievna.  Marfa 
Vassilievna  agrees  ;  she  loves  Nikolai." 

"  Because  Marfinka  took  upon  herself  to  answer 
his  declaration  she  is  now  shut  up  in  her  room,  in  her 
petticoat,  without  shoes,"  lied  her  aunt.  Then  in  order 
to  lay  full  stress  on  the  importance  of  the  moment, 
she  added :  "I  have  given  orders  not  to  admit 
your  son,  so  that  he  may  not  play  with  a  poor  girl's 
affections." 

It  was  impossible  for  Marfa  Egorovna  not  to  recog- 
nise the  provocation  of  these  remarks. 

"  If  I  had  foreseen  this,"  she  said  angrily,  "  I  would 
have  given  him  a  different  answer.  He  assured  me — 
and  I  was  so  willing  to  believe  him — of  your  affection 
for  him,  and  for  me.  Pardon  my  mission,  Tatiana 
Markovna,  and  pray  let  that  poor  child  out  of  her 
room.  The  blame  rests  with  my  boy  only,  and  he  shall 
be  punished.  Have  the  kindness  to  order  my  carriage." 

She  placed  her  hand  on  the  bell,  but  Tatiana  Mar- 
kovna detained  her. 

"  Your  horses  are  taken  out.  You  will  stay  with 
me,  Marfa  Egorovna,  to-day,  to-morrow,  all  the  week." 

"  But  since  you  are  so  angry  with  Marfa  Vassilievna 
and  my  son,  who  does  indeed  deserve  to  be  punished  ?  " 

The  wrinkles  in  Tatiana  Markovna's  face  faded,  and 


THE    PRECIPICE  159 

her  eyes  gleamed  with  joy.     She  threw  her  shawl  and 
cap  on  the  divan. 

"  I  can't  keep  it  up  any  longer  !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  Take  off  your  hat  and  mantilla.  We  are  only 
teasing  one  another,  Marfa  Egorovna.  I  shall  have  a 
grandson,  you  a  daughter.  Kiss  me,  dear  !  I  wanted 
to  keep  up  the  old  customs,  but  there  are  cases  which 
they  don't  fit.  We  knew  what  must  be  the  upshot 
of  this.  If  we  hadn't  wished  it  we  should  not  have 
allowed  them  to  go  and  listen  to  the  nightingales." 

"  How  you  frightened  me  !  "  cried  Marfa  Egorovna. 

"  He  had  to  be  frightened.     I  will  read  him  a  lesson." 

Mother  and  aunt  had  gone  a  long  way  into  the 
future,  and  when  they  were  about  as  far  as  the  christen- 
ing of  the  third  child,  Marfa  Egorovna  noticed  in  the 
garden  among  the  bushes  a  head  which  was  now 
hidden,  then  again  cautiously  raised  to  reconnoitre. 
She  recognised  her  son,  and  pointed  him  out  to  Tatiana 
Markovna.  They  called  him,  but  when  he  at  last 
decided  to  enter,  he  hung  about  in  the  ante-room,  as 
if  he  were  making  himself  presentable. 

"  You  are  welcome,  Nikolai  Andreevich,"  said 
Tatiana  Markovna  pointedly,  while  his  mother  looked 
at  him  ironically. 

"  Good  morning,  Tatiana  Markovna,"  he  stammered 
at  last,  and  kissed  the  old  lady's  hand.  "  I  have 
bought  tickets  for  the  charity  concert,  for  you  and 
Mama,  for  Vera  Vassilievna  and  Marfa  Vassilievna 
and  for  Boris  Pavlovich.  It's  a  splendid  concert  .  .  . 
the  first  singer  in  Moscow.  ..." 

"  Why  do  we  need  to  go  to  concerts  ?  "  interrupted 
Tatiana  Markovna,  looking  at  him  sideways.  "  The 
nightingales  sing  so  finely  here.  In  the  evening  we  go 
into  the  garden,  and  can  hear  them  for  nothing." 

Marfa  Egorovna  bit  her  lip,  but  Vikentev  stood 
transfixed. 

"  Sit  down,  Nikolai  Andreevich,"  continued  the  old 
lady  seriously  and  reproachfully,  "  and  listen  to  what 
I  have  to  say.  What  does  your  conscience  tell  you  ? 
How  have  you  rewarded  my  confidence  ? 

"  Don't  make  fun  of  me  ,  .  .  it's  unkind." 


i6o  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  I  am  not  joking.  It  wasn't  right  of  you,  my 
friend,  to  speak  to  Marfinka,  and  not  to  me.  Supposing 
I  had  not  consented  ?  " 

"  If  you  had  not  consented  I  would  have.  .    .  ." 

"  What  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  would  have  gone  away  from  here,  joined  the 
Hussars,  have  contracted  debts,  and  gone  to  wrack  and 
ruin." 

"  Now  he  threatens  !  You  should  not  be  so  bent 
on  your  own  way,  young  man." 

"  Give  me  Marfa  Vassilievna,  and  I  will  be  more 
tranquil  than  water,  humbler  than  the  grass." 

"  Shall  we  give  him  Marfinka,  Marfa  Egorovna  ?  " 

"  He  hasn't  deserved  it,  Tatiana  Markovna.  And 
it  is  really  too  early.     Perhaps  in  two  years' time.  .  .  ." 

He  flew  to  his  mother  and  shut  her  mouth  with  a 
kiss.  Then  he  received  from  Tatiana  Markovna  the 
sign  of  the  cross,  and  a  kiss  on  the  forehead. 

"  Where  is  Marfa  Vassilievna  ?  "  he  shouted  joyfully. 

"  You  must  have  patience,"  admonished  his  grand- 
mother, "  we  will  fetch  her." 

Tatiana  Markovna  and  Marfa  Egorovna  found 
Marfinka  hidden  in  the  corner  behind  the  curtains 
of  her  bed,  close  by  the  ikons.  She  covered  her 
blushing  face  in  her  hands. 

Vera  received  the  news  from  her  aunt  with  quiet 
pleasure,  saying  that  she  had  expected  it  for  a  long 
time. 

"  God  grant  that  you  may  follow  her  example,"  said 
Tatiana  Markovna. 

"  If  you  love  me  as  I  love  you.  Grandmother,  you 
will  bestow  all  your  care  and  thought  on  Marfinka. 
Take  no  thought  for  me." 

"  My  heart  aches  for  you,  Veroshka." 

"  I  know,  and  that  grieves  me.  Grandmother," 
she  said  with  a  despairing  note,  ''it  is  kilhng  me  to 
think  that  your  heart  aches  on  my  account." 

"  What  do  you  say,  Veroshka  ?  open  your  heart  to 
me.  Perhaps  I  can  comprehend,  and  if  you  have 
grief,  help  to  assuage  it." 

"  If   trouble   overtakes   me.    Grandmother,   and    I 


THE    PRECIPICE  i6i 

cannot  conquer  it  myself,  I  will  come  to  you  and 
to  none  other,  God  only  excepted.  But  do  not  make 
me  suffer  any  more,  or  allow  yourself  to  suffer." 

"  Will  it  not  be  too  late  when  trouble  has  once 
overtaken  you  ?  "  whispered  her  aunt.  Then  she 
added  aloud,  "  I  know  that  you  are  not  like  IMarfinka, 
and  I  will  not  disturb  you." 

A  long  sigh  escaped  her  as  she  left  the  room  with 
quick  steps  and  bent  head.  Vera's  distress  was  the 
only  cloud  on  her  horizon,  and  she  prayed  earnestly 
that  it  might  pass  and  not  gather  into  a  black  storm 
cloud.  Vera  sought  to  calm  her  own  agitation  by 
walking  up  and  down  the  garden,  but  only  succeeded 
gradually.  As  soon  as  she  caught  sight  of  Marfinka 
and  Vikentev  in  the  arbour,  she  hurried  to  them, 
looked  affectionately  into  her  sister's  face,  kissed  her 
eyes,  her  lips,  her  cheeks,  and  embraced  her  warmly. 

"  You  must  be  happy,"  she  said  with  tears  in  her 
eyes. 

"  How  lovely  you  are  Veroshka,  and  how  good  ! 
We  are  not  a  bit  hke  sisters.  There  is  nobody  in  the 
neighbourhood  fit  to  marry  you,  is  there,  Nikolai 
Andreevich  ?  " 

Vera  pressed  her  hand  in  silence. 

"  Nikolai  Andreevich,  do  you  know  what  she  is  ?  " 

"  An  angel,"  answered  Vikentev  as  promptly  as  a 
soldier  answers  his  officer. 

"  An  angel,"  mimicked  Vera  laughing,  and  pointing 
to  a  butterfly  hovering  over  a  flower.  "  There  is  an 
angel.  But  if  you  even  touch  him  the  colour  of  his 
wings  will  be  spoiled,  and  he  will  perhaps  even  lose  a 
wing.  You  must  spoil  her,  love  and  caress  her,  and 
God  forbid  that  you  ever  wound  her.  If  you  ever  do," 
she  threatened,  smiling,  "  you  will  have  to  reckon  with 
me." 

Within  a  week  of  this  happy  occasion  the  house  was 
restored  to  its  ordinary  routine.  Marfa  Egorovna 
drove  back  to  Kolchino,  but  Vikentev  became  a  daily 
visitor,  and  almost  a  member  of  the  family.  He  and 
Marfinka  no  longer  jumped  and  ran  like  children, 
though  they  occasionally  had  a  lively  dispute,  half  in 


i62  THE    PRECIPICE 

jest,  half  in  earnest.  They  sang  and  read  together, 
and  the  pure,  fresh  poetry  of  youth,  plain  for  all 
to  read,  welled  up  in  their  frank,  unspoiled  hearts. 

The  wedding  being  fixed  for  the  autumn,  preparations 
for  Marfinka's  house-furnishing  and  trousseau  were 
being  gradually  pushed  forward.  From  the  cupboards 
of  the  house  were  brought  old  lace,  silver  and  gold 
plate,  glass,  linen,  furs,  pearls,  diamonds  and  all  sorts 
of  treasures,  to  be  divided  by  Tatiana  Markovna  with 
Jew-like  exactness  into  two  equal  shares,  with  the  aid 
of  jewellers,  workers  in  gold,  and  others. 

"  That  is  yours.  Vera,  and  there  is  Marfinka's  share. 
You  are  not  to  receive  a  pearl  or  on  ounce  more  than 
the  other.     See  for  yourselves." 

Vera  pushed  pearls  and  diamonds  into  a  heap  with 
a  declaration  that  she  needed  very  little.  This  only 
angered  Tatiana  Markovna,  who  began  the  work  of 
division  all  over  again.  Raisky  sent  to  his  former 
guardian  for  the  diamonds  and  silver  that  had  been 
his  mother's  portion,  and  bestowed  these  also  on  the 
sisters,  but  his  aunt  hid  the  treasure  in  the  depths  of 
her  coffers. 

"  You  will  want  them  yourself."  she  said,  "  on  the 
day  when  you  take  it  into  your  head  to  marr3^" 

The  estate  with  all  that  belonged  to  it  he  had  made 
over  in  the  names  of  the  sisters,  a  gift  for  which  each 
of  them  thanked  him  after  her  fashion.  Tatiana 
Markovna  wrinkled  her  forehead,  and  looked  askance 
at  him,  but  she  could  not  long  maintain  this  attitude, 
and  ended  b}^  embracing  him. 

In  various  rooms,  in  Tatiana  Markovna's  sitting 
room,  in  the  servants'  room,  and  even  in  the  reception 
room,  tables  were  covered  with  linen.  The  marriage 
bed,  with  its  lace  pillow-cases  and  cover  was  being 
prepared,  and  every  morning  there  came  dressmakers 
and  seamstresses.  Only  Raisky  and  Vera  remained 
untouched  by  the  universal  ga3^  activity.  Even  when 
Raisky  sought  distraction  in  riding  or  visiting,  there 
was  in  fact  no  one  else  in  the  world  for  him  but  Vera. 
He  avoided  too  frequent  visits  to  Koslov  on  account 
of  Juliana  Andreevna. 


THE    PRECIPICE  163 

He  did  not  visit  Paulina  Karpovna,  but  she  came 
the  oftener,  and  bored  him  and  Tatiana  Markovna 
by  her  pose,  retiring  or  audacious,  as  the  case  might 
be.  Tatiana  Markovna  especially  was  annoyed  by 
her  unasked  for  criticisms  of  the  weddmg  preparations, 
and  by  her  views  on  marriage  generally.  Marriage, 
she  declared,  was  the  grave  of  love,  elect  souls  were 
bound  to  meet  in  spite  of  all  obstacles,  even  outside 
the  marriage  bond,  and  so  forth.  While  she  expounded 
these  doctrines  she  cast  languishing  eyes  on  Raisky. 

Neither  did  the  young  people  who  now  often  came 
to  the  house  to  dance,  awaken  any  interest  in  Raisky 
or  Vera.  These  two  were  only  happy  under  given 
circumstances  ;  he — with  her,  she — when  unseen  by 
anyone  she  could  flit  like  a  ghost  to  the  precipice  to 
lose  herself  in  the  under-growth,  or  when  she  drove 
over  the  Volga  to  see  the  pope's  wife. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

The  weather  was  gloomy.  Rain  fell  unintermittently, 
the  sky  was  enshrouded  in  a  thick  cloud  of  fog,  and  on 
the  ground  lay  banks  of  mist.  No  one  had  ventured 
out  all  day,  and  the  family  had  already  gone  early  to 
bed,  when  about  ten  o'clock  the  rain  ceased,  Raisky 
put  on  his  overcoat  to  get  a  breath  of  air  in  the  garden. 
The  rustle  of  the  bushes  and  the  plants  from  which 
the  rain  was  still  dripping,  alone  broke  the  stillness 
of  the  night.  After  a  few  turns  up  and  down  he  turned 
his  steps  to  the  vegetable  garden,  through  which  his 
way  to  the  fields  lay.  Here  and  there  a  gHmmcring 
star  hung  above  in  the  dense  darkness,  and  before  him 
the  village  lay  like  a  dark  spot  on  the  dark  background 
of  the  indistinguishable  fields  beyond.  Suddenly  he 
heard  a  slight  noise  from  the  old  house,  and  saw  that 
a  window  on  the  ground  floor  had  been  opened.  Since 
the  window  looked  out  not  into  the  garden,  but  on 
to  the  field,  he  hastened  to  reach  the  grove  of  acacias, 


i64  THE    PRECIPICE 

leapt  the  fence  and  landed  in  a  puddle  of  water,  where 
he  stood  motionless. 

"Is  it  you  ?  "  said  a  low  voice  from  the  window. 
It  was  Vera's  voice. 

Though  his  knees  trembled  under  him,  he  was  just 
able  to  answer  in  the  same  low  tone,  "  Yes." 

"  The  rain  has  kept  me  in  all  day,  but  to-morrow 
morning  at  ten.     Go  quickly  ;  some  one  is  coming." 

The  window  was  closed  quietly,  and  Raisky  cursed 
the  approaching  footsteps  that  had  interrupted  the 
conversation.  It  was  then  true,  and  the  letter  written 
on  blue  paper  not  a  dream.  Was  there  a  rendezvous  ? 
He  went  in  the  direction  of  the  steps. 

"  Who  is  there  ?  "  cried  a  voice,  and  Raisky  was 
seized  from  behind. 

"The  devil,"  cried  Raisky,  pushing  Savili  away, 
"  since  when  have  you  taken  upon  yourself  to  guard 
the  house  ?  " 

"  I  have  the  Mistress's  orders.  There  are  so  many 
thieves  and  vagabonds  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  the 
sailors  from  the  Volga  do  a  lot  of  mischief." 

"  That  is  a  lie.  You  are  out  after  Marina,  and  you 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself." 

He  would  have  gone,  but  Savili  detained  him. 

"  Allow  me.  Sir,  to  say  a  word  or  two  about  Marina. 
Exercise  your  merciful  powers,  and  send  the  woman  to 
Siberia." 

"  Are  you  out  of  your  senses  ?  " 

"  Or  into  a  house  of  detention  for  the  rest  of  her  life." 

"  I'm  much  more  likely  to  send  you,  so  that  you 
cease  to  beat  her.  What  are  you  doing,  spying  here  in 
this  abominable  way  ?  "  said  Raisky  between  his  teeth, 
as  he  cast  a  glance  at  Vera's  window.  In  another 
moment  he  was  gone. 

Raisky  hardly  slept  at  all  that  night,  and  he  appeared 
next  morning  in  his  aunt's  sitting-room  with  dry, 
weary  eyes.  The  whole  family  had  assembled  for 
tea  on  this  particular  bright  morning.  Vera 
greeted  him  gaily,  as  he  pressed  her  hand  feverishly 
and  looked  straight  into  her  eyes.  She  returned  his 
gaze  calmly^and  quietly, 


THE    PRECIPICE  165 

"  How  elegant  you  are  this  morning,"  he  said. 

"  Do  you  call  a  simple  straw-coloured  blouse 
elegant  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  But  the  scarlet  band  on  your  hair,  with  the  coils 
of  hair  drawn  across  it,  the  belt  with  the  beautiful 
clasp,  and  the  scarlet-embroidered  shoes.  .  .  .  You  have 
excellent  taste,  and  I  congraulate  you." 

"  I  am  glad  that  I  meet  with  your  approval,  but  your 
enthusiasm  is  rather  strange.  Tell  me  the  reason 
of  this  extraordinary  tone." 

"  Good,  I  will  tell  you.     Let  us  go  for  a  stroll." 

He  saw  that  she  gave  him  a  quick  glance  of  suspicion 
as  he  proposed  an  appointment  with  her  for  ten  o'clock. 
After  a  moment's  thought  she  agreed,  sat  down  in  a 
corner,  and  was  silent.  About  ten  o'clock  she  picked 
up  her  work  and  her  parasol,  and  signed  to  him  to 
follow  her  as  she  left  the  house.  She  walked  in  silence 
through  the  garden,  and  they  sat  down  on  a  bench  at 
the  top  of  the  cliff. 

"  It  was  by  chance,"  said  Raisky,  who  was  hardly 
able  to  restrain  his  emotion,  "  that  I  have  learnt  a 
part  of  your  secret." 

"So  it  seems,"  she  answered  coldly.  "  You  were 
listening  yesterday." 

"  Accidentally,  I  swear." 

"  I  believe  you." 

"  Vera,  there  is  no  longer  any  doubt  that  you  have 
a  lover.     Who  is  he  ?  " 

"  Don't  ask." 

"  Who  is  there  in  the  world  who  could  desire  your 
happiness  more  ardently  than  I  do  ?  Why  have  you 
confidence  in  him  and  not  in  me  ? 

"  Because  I  love  him." 

"  The  man  you  love  is  to  be  envied,  but  how  is  he 
going  to  repay  you  for  the  supreme  happiness  that  y(m 
bring  him  ?  Be  careful,  my  friend.  To  whom  do 
you  give  your  confidence  ?  " 

"  To  myself." 

"  Who  is  the  man  ?  " 

Instead  of  answering  him  she  looked  full  in  his  face, 
and  he  thought  that  her  eyes  were  as  colourless  as  those 


i66  THE    PRECIPICE 

of  a  watersprite,  and  there  lay  hidden  in  them  a  mad- 
dening riddle.  From  below  in  the  bushes  there  came 
the  sound  of  a  shot.  Vera  rose  immediately  from  the 
bench,  and  Raisky  also  rose. 

"  HE  ?  "  he  asked  in  a  dull  voice.  "It  is  ten 
o'clock." 

She  approached  the  precipice,  Raisky  following  close 
at  her  heels.     She  motioned  him  to  come  no  farther. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  the  shot  ?  " 

"  He  calls." 

"  Who  ?  " 

"  The  writer  of  the  blue  letter.  Not  a  step  further 
unless  you  wish  that  I  leave  here  for  ever." 

She  rapidly  descended  the  precipice,  and  in  a  few 
moments  had  vanished  behind  the  brushwood  and  the 
trees.  He  called  after  her  to  take  care,  but  in  reply 
heard  only  the  crackling  of  the  dry  twigs  beneath  her 
feet.  Then  all  was  still.  He  was  left  to  torment 
himself  with  wondering  who  the  object  of  her  passion 
could  be. 

It  was  none  other  than  Mark  Volokov,  pariah,  cynic, 
gipsy,  who  would  ask  the  first  likely  man  he  met  for 
money,  who  levelled  his  gun  on  his  fellow-men,  and, 
like  Karl  Moor,  had  declared  war  on  mankind — Mark 
Volokov,  the  man  under  police  supervision. 

It  was  to  meet  this  dangerous  and  suspicious  character 
that  Vera  stole  to  the  rendezvous — Vera,  the  pearl  of 
beauty  in  the  whole  neighbourhood,  whose  beauty 
made  strong  men  weak  ;  Vera,  who  had  mastered  even 
the  tyrannical  Tatiana  Markovna  ;  Vera,  the  pure 
maiden  sheltered  from  all  the  winds  of  heaven.  It 
would  have  seemed  impossible  for  her  to  meet  a  man 
against  whom  all  houses  were  barred.  It  had  happened 
so  simply,  so  easily,  towards  the  end  of  the  last  summer, 
at  the  time  that  the  apples  were  ripe.  She  was  sitting 
one  evening  in  the  little  acacia  arbour  by  the  fence 
near  the  old  house,  looking  absently  out  into  the 
field,  and  away  to  the  Volga  and  the  hills  beyond, 
when  she  became  aware  that  a  few  paces  away  the 
branches  of  the  apple  tree  were  swaying  unnaturally 
over  the  fence.      When  she  looked  more  closely  she 


THE    PRECIPICE  167 

saw  that  a  man  was  sitting  comfortably  on  the  top 
rail.  He  appeared  by  his  face  and  dress  to  belong 
to  the  lower  class  ;  he  was  not  a  schoolboy,  but  he 
held  in  his  hands  several  apples. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  "  she  asked,  just  as  he 
was  about  to  spring  down  from  the  fence. 

"  I  am  eating,"  he  said,  after  taking  a  look  at  her. 
"  Will  you  try  one  ?  "  he  added,  hitching  himself  along 
the  fence  towards  her. 

She  looked  at  him  curiously,  but  without  fear,  as 
she  drew  back  a  little. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  she  said  severely.  "  And  why 
do  you  climb  on  to  other  people's  fences." 

"  What  can  it  matter  to  you  who  I  am.  I  can  easily 
tell  you  why  I  climb  on  other  people's  fences.  It  is  to 
eat  apples." 

"  Aren't  you  ashamed  to  take  other  people's 
apples  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  They  are  my  apples,  not  theirs  ;  they  have  been 
stolen  from  me.  You  certainly  have  not  read  Proud- 
hon.  But  how  beautiful  you  arc !  "  he  added  in 
amazement.  "  Do  you  know  what  Proudhon  says  ?  " 
he  concluded. 

"  La  froprieU  c'est  le  vol." 

"  Ah,  you  have  read  Proudhon."  He  stared  at 
her,  and  as  she  shook  her  head,  he  continued,  "  Any- 
way, you  have  heard  it.  Indeed,  this  divine  truth  has 
gone  all  round  the  world  nowadays.  I  have  a  copy 
of  Proudhon,  and  will  bring  it  to  you," 

"  You  are  not  a  boy,  and  yet  you  steal  apples. 
You  think  it  is  not  theft  to  do  so  because  of  that 
saying  of  Proudhon's." 

"  You  believe,  then,  everything  that  was  told  you 
at  school  ?  But  please  tell  me  who  you  are.  This 
is  the  Berezhkovs'  garden.  They  tell  me  the  old 
lady  has  two  beautifiil  nieces." 

"  I  too  say  what  can  it  matter  to  you  who  I 
am?  " 

"  Then  you  believe  what  your  Grandmother  tells 
you  ?  " 

"  I  believe  in  what  convinces  me." 


i68  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  Exactly  like  me,"  he  said,  taking  off  his  cap.  "  Is 
it  criminal  in  your  eyes  to  take  apples  ?  " 

"  Not  criminal,  perhaps,  but  not  good  manners." 

"  I  make  you  a  present  of  them,"  he  said,  handing 
her  the  remaining  four  apples  and  taking  another  bite 
out  of  his  own. 

He  raised  his  cap  once  more  and  bid  her  an  ironic 
good-day. 

"  You  have  a  double  beauty,  you  are  beautiful  to 
look  at  and  sensible  into  the  bargain.  It  is  a  pity 
that  you  are  destined  to  adorn  the  life  of  an  idiot.  You 
will  be  given  away,  poor  girl." 

"  No  pity,  if  you  please.  I  shall  not  be  given  away 
like  an  apple." 

"  You  remember  the  apples  ;  many  thanks  for  the 
gift.  I  will  bring  you  books  in  exchange,  as  you  like 
books." 

"  Proudhon  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Proudhon  and  others.  I  have  all  the  new 
ones.  Only  you  must  not  tell  your  Grandmother  and 
her  stupid  visitors,  for  although  I  do  not  know  who 
they  are,  I  don't  think  they  would  have  anything  to 
do  with  me." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  You  have  only  seen  me 
for  five  minutes." 

"  The  stag's  breed  is  never  hidden,  one  sees  at  once 
that  you  belong  to  the  living,  not  to  the  dead-alive, 
and  that  is  the  main  point.  The  rest  comes  with 
opportunity.  ..." 

"  I  have  a  free  mind,  as  you  yourself  say,  and  you 
immediately  want  to  overpower  it.  Who  are  you  that 
you  should  take  upon  yourself  to  instruct  me  ?  " 

He  looked  at  her  in  amazement. 

"  You  are  neither  to  bring  me  books,  nor  to  come 
here  again  yourself,"  she  said,  rising  to  go.  "  There 
is  a  watchman  here,  and  he  will  seize  you." 

"  That  is  like  the  Grandmother  again.  It  smells  of 
the  town  and  the  Lenten  oil,  and  I  thought  that  you 
loved  the  wide  world  and  freedom.  Are  you  afraid 
of  me,  and  who  do  you  think  I  am  ?  " 

"  A  seminarist,  perhaps,"  she  said  laconically. 


THE    PRECIPICE  169 

"  What  makes  you  think  that  ?  " 

"  Well,  seminarists  are  unconventional,  badly 
dressed,  and  always  hungry.  Go  into  the  kitchen, 
and  I  will  tell  them  to  give  you  something  to  cat." 

"  That's  very  kind.  Did  anything  else  about  the 
seminarists  strike  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  acquainted  with  any  of  them,  and  have 
seen  very  little  of  them  at  ail ;  they  are  so  unpolished, 
and  talk  so  queerly.  ..." 

"  They  are  our  real  missionaries,  and  what  does  it 
matter  if  they  talk  queerly  ?  While  we  laugh  at 
them  they  attack  the  enemy,  blindly  perhaps,  but 
at  any  rate  with  enthusiasm." 

"  What  enemy  ?  " 

"  The  world ;  they  fight  for  the  new  knowledge, 
the  new  life.  Healthy,  virile  youth  needs  air  and 
food,  and  we  need  such  men." 

"We?     Who?  " 

"  The  new-born  strength  of  the  world." 

"  Do  you  then  represent  the  '  new-born  strength 
of  the  world/  "  she  said,  looking  at  him  with  observant, 
curious  eyes,  but  without  irony,  "  or  is  your  name  a 
secret  ?  " 

"  Would  it  frighten  you  if  I  named  it  ?  " 

"  What  could  it  mean  to  me  if  you  did  disclose  it  ? 
What  is  it  ?  " 

"  Mark  Volokov.  In  this  silly  place  my  name  is 
heard  with  nearly  as  much  terror  as  if  it  were 
Pugachev  or  Stenka  Razin." 

"  You  are  that  man  ?  "  she  said,  looking  at  him 
with  rising  curiosity.  "  You  boast  of  your  name, 
which  I  have  heard  before.  You  shot  at  Nicl 
Andreevich,  and  let  a  couple  of  dogs  loose  on  an  old 
lady.  There  are  the  manifestations  of  your  '  new 
strength.'     Go,  and  don't  be  seen  here  again." 

"  Otherwise  you  will  complain  to  Grandmama  ?  " 

"  I  certainly  shall.     Good-bye." 

She  left  the  arbour  and  walked  away  without 
listening  to  his  rejoinder.  He  followed  her  covetously 
with  his  eyes,  murmuring  as  he  sprang  to  the  ground 
a  wish  that  those  apples  also  could  be  stolen.    Vera, 


170  THE    PRECIPICE 

for  her  part,  said  not  a  word  to  her  aunt  of  this 
meeting,  but  she  confided  nevertheless  in  her  friend 
NataHe  Ivanovna  after  exacting  a  promise  of  secrecy. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

After  leaving  Raisky,  Vera  listened  for  a  while  to 
make  sure  he  was  not  following  her,  and  then,  pushing 
the  branches  of  the  undergrowth  aside  with  her  parasol, 
made  her  way  by  the  familiar  path  to  the  ruined 
arbour,  whose  battered  doorway  was  almost  barricaded 
by  the  fallen  timbers.  The  steps  of  the  arbour  and 
the  planks  of  the  floor  had  sunk,  and  rotten  planks 
cracked  under  her  feet.  Of  its  original  furniture 
there  was  nothing  left  but  two  moss-grown  benches 
and  a  crooked  table. 

Mark  was  already  in  the  arbour,  and  his  rifle  and 
huntsman's  bag  lay  on  the  table.  He  held  out  his 
hand  to  Vera,  and  almost  lifted  her  in  over  the  shattered 
steps.  By  way  of  welcome  he  merely  commented 
on  her  lateness. 

"  The  weather  detained  me,"  she^^said.  "  Have 
you  any  news  ?  " 

"  Did  you  expect  any  ?  " 

"  I  expect  every  day  that  you  will  be  sent  for  by 
the  military  or  the  police." 

"  I  have  been  more  careful  since  Raisky  played  at 
magnanimity  and  took  upon  himself  the  fuss  about 
the  books." 

"  I  don't  like  that  about  you,  Mark,  yom"  callousness 
and  malice  towards  everyone  except  yourself.  My 
cousin  made  no  parade  of  what  he  had  done  ;  he  did 
not  even  mention  it  to  me.  You  are  incapable  of 
appreciating  a  kindness." 

"  I  do  appreciate  it  in  my  own  way." 

"  Just  as  the  wolf  in  the  fable  appreciated  the  kind- 
ness of  the  crane.  Why  not  thank  him  wth  the  same 
simplicity   with  which   he   served   you.     You   are   a 


THE    PRECIPICE  171 

real  wolf ;  you  are  for  ever  disparaging,  detracting, 
or  blaming  someone,  either  from  pride  or.  .  .  ." 

"  Or  what  ?  " 

"  Or  by  way  of  cultivating  the  '  new  strength.'  " 

"  Scoffer  !  "  he  laughed,  as  he  sat  down  beside  her. 
"  You  are  young,  and  still  too  inexperienced  to  be 
disillusioned  of  all  the  charm  of  the  good  old  times. 
How  can  I  instruct  you  in  the  rights  of  mankind  ?  " 

"  And  how  am  I  to  cure  you  of  the  slandering  of 
mankind  ?  " 

"  You  have  always  a  retort  handy,  and  nobody 
could  complain  of  dullness  with  you,  but,"  he  said, 
clutching  meditatively  at  his  head,  "  if  I.  .  ,  ." 

"  Am  locked  up  by  the  police,"  she  finished.  "  That 
seems  to  be  all  that  your  fate  still  lacks." 

"  But  for  you,  I  should  long  ago  have  been  sent  off 
somewhere.     You  are  a  disturbing  element." 

"  Are  you  tired  of  living  peaceably,  and  already 
craving  for  a  storm  ?  You  promised  me  to  lead 
a  different  life.  What  have  you  not  promised  me  ? 
And  I  was  so  happy  that  they  even  noticed  my  delight 
at  home.  And  now  you  have  relapsed  into  j^our  old 
mood,"  she  protested,  as  he  seized  her  hand. 

"  Pretty  hand  !  "  he  said,  kissing  it  again  and  again 
without  any  objection  from  her,  but  when  he  sought 
to  kiss  her  cheek  she  drew  back. 

"  You  refuse  again.  Is  your  reserve  never  to  end  ? 
Perhaps  you  keep  your  caresses  for.  ..." 

She  drew  her  hand  away  hastily. 

"  You  know  I  do  not  like  jests  of  that  kind.  You 
must  break  yourself  of  this  tone,  and  of  wolfish 
manners  generally  ;  that  would  be  the  first  step  towards 
unaffected  manhood." 

"  Tone  and  manners  !  You  are  a  child  still  occupied 
with  your  ABC.  Before  you  lie  freedom,  life,  love, 
happiness,  and  you  talk  of  tone  and  manners.  Where 
is  the  human  soul,  the  woman  in  you  ?  What  is 
natural  and  genuine  in  you  ?  " 

"  Now  you  are  talking  like  Raisky." 

"  Ah,  Raisky  !     Is  he  still  so  desperate  ?  " 


172  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  More  than  ever,  so  that  I  really  don't  know  how 
to  treat  him." 

"  Lead  him  by  the  nose." 

"  How  hideous !  It  would  be  best  to  tell  him 
the  truth  about  myself.  If  he  knew  all  he  would  be 
reconciled  and  would  go  away,  as  he  said  he  intended 
to  do  long  ago." 

"  He  will  hate  you,  read  you  a  lecture,  and  perhaps 
tell  your  Aunt." 

"  God  forbid  that  she  should  hear  the  truth  except 
from  ourselves.     Should  I  go  away  for  a  time  ?  " 

"  Why  ?  It  could  not  be  arranged  for  you  to  be 
away  long,  and  if  your  absence  was  short  he  would 
be  only  the  more  agitated.  When  370U  were  away 
what  good  did  it  do.  There  is  only  one  way  and  that 
is  to  conceal  the  truth  from  him,  to  put  him  on  a 
wrong  track.  Let  him  cherish  his  passion,  read  verses, 
and  gape  at  the  moon,  since  he  is  an  incurable 
Romanticist.  Later  on  he  will  sober  down  and  travel 
once  more." 

"  He  is  not  a  Romanticist  in  the  sense  you  mean," 
sighed  Vera.  "  You  may  fairly  call  him  poet,  artist. 
I  at  least  begin  to  believe  in  him,  in  his  delicacy  and 
his  truthfulness.  I  would  hide  nothing  from  him 
if  he  did  not  betray  his  passion  for  me.  If  he  subdues 
that,  I  will  be  the  first  to  tell  him  the  whole  truth." 

"  We  did  not  meet,"  interrupted  Mark,  "  to  talk 
so  much  about  him." 

"  Well,  what  have  you  done  since  we  last  met  ?  " 
she  asked  gaily.  "  Whom  have  you  met  ?  Have  you 
been  discoursing  on  the  '  new  strength  '  or  the  '  dawn 
of  the  future,'  or  '  young  hopes  ?  '  Every  day  I 
live  in  anxious  expectation." 

"  No,  no,"  laughed  Mark.  "  I  have  ceased  to 
bother  about  the  people  here  ;  it  is  not  worth  while 
to  tackle  them." 

"  God  grant  it  were  so.  You  would  have  done  well  if 
you  had  acted  up  to  what  you  say.  But  I  cannot 
be  happy  about  you.  At  the  Sfogins,  the  youngest 
son,  Volod3/a,  who  is  fourteen,  declared  to  his  mother 
that  he  was  not  going  any  more  to  Mass,     Wiicn  he 


THE    PRECIPICE  173 

was  whipped,  and  questioned,  he  pointed  to  his  eldest 
brother,  who  had  sneaked  into  the  servants'  room 
and  there  preached  to  the  maids  the  whole  evening 
that  it  was  stupid  to  observe  the  fasts  of  the  Church, 
to  go  through  the  ceremony  of  marriage,  that  there 
was  no  God.  .  .  ." 

Mark  looked  at  her  in  horror, 

"  In  the  servants'  room  !  And  yet  I  talked  to  him 
for  a  whole  evening  as  if  he  were  a  man  capable  of 
reason,  and  gave  him  books.  .  .  ,  " 

"  Which  he  took  straight  to  the  bookseller.  '  These 
are  the  books  you  ought  to  put  on  sale,'  he  said.  Did 
you  not  give  me  your  promise,"  she  said  reproachfully, 
"  when  we  parted  and  you  begged  to  see  me  again  ?  " 

"  All  that  is  long  past.  I  have  had  nothing  more 
to  do  with  those  people  since  I  gave  you  that  promise. 
Don't  be  angry.  Vera.  But  for  you  I  would  escape 
from  this  neighbourhood  to-morrow." 

"  Escape — where  ?  Everywhere  there  are  the  same 
opportunities ;  boys  who  would  like  to  see  their 
moustaches  grow  quicker,  servants'  rooms,  if  indepen- 
dent men  and  women  will  not  listen  to  your  talk.  Are 
you  not  ashamed  of  the  part  you  play  ?  "  she  asked 
after  a  brief  pause.  "  Do  you  look  on  it  as  your 
mission  ?  " 

She  stroked  his  bent  head  affectionately  as  she 
spoke.     At  her  last  words  he  raised  his  head  quickly. 

"  What  part  do  I  play  ?  I  give  a  baptism  of  pure 
water." 

"  Are  you  convinced  of  the  pureness  of  the  water  ?  " 

"  Listen,  Vera.  I  am  not  Raisky,"  said  Mark, 
rising.  "  You  are  a  woman,  or  rather  one  should 
say  a  bud  which  has  yet  to  unfold  into  womanhood. 
When  that  unfolding  comes  many  secrets  will  be 
clear  to  you  that  have  no  part  in  a  girl's  dreams 
and  that  cannot  be  explained  ;  experience  is  the  sole 
key  to  these  secrets.  I  call  you  to  your  initiation. 
Vera  ;  I  show  you  the  path  of  life.  But  you  stand 
hesitating  on  the  threshold,  and  your  advance  is  slow. 
The  serious  thing  is  that  you  don't  even  believe  me." 
"  Po  not  be  vexed,"  begged  Vera   affectionately. 


174  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  I  agree  with  you  in  everything  that  I  recognise  as 
right  and  honourable.  If  I  cannot  always  follow 
you  in  life  and  in  experience  it  is  because  I  desire 
to  know  and  see  for  myself  the  goal  for  which  I  am 
making." 

"  That  is  to  say,  that  you  wish  to  judge  for  yourself." 

"  And  do  you  desire  that  I  should  not  judge  for 
myself  ?  " 

"  I  love  you,  Vera.  Put  your  trust  in  me,  and 
obey.  Does  the  flame  of  passion  burn  in  me  less 
strongly  than  in  your  Raisky,  for  all  his  poetry. 
Passion  is  chary  of  words.  But  you  will  neither 
trust  nor  obey  me." 

"  Would  you  have  me  not  stand  at  the  level  of 
my  personality  ?  You  yourself  preached  freedom  to 
me,  and  now  the  tyrant  in  you  appears  because  I 
do  not  show  a  slavish  submission." 

"  Let  us  part,  Vera,  if  doubt  is  uppermost  with 
you  and  you  have  no  confidence  in  me,  for  in  that 
fashion  we  cannot  continue  our  meetings." 

"  Yes,  let  us  part  rather  than  that  you  should 
exact  a  blind  trust  in  you.  In  my  waking  hours  and 
in  my  dreams  I  imagine  that  there  lies  between  us 
no  disturbance,  no  doubt.  But  I  don't  understand 
you,  and  therefore  cannot  trust  you." 

"  You  hide  under  your  Aunt's  skirts  like  a  chicken 
under  a  hen,  and  you  have  absorbed  her  ideas  and 
her  system  of  morals.  You,  like  Raisky,  inshroud 
passion  in  fantastic  draperies.  Let  us  put  aside  all 
the  other  questions  untouched.  The  one  that  lies 
before  us  is  simple  and  straightforward.  We  love 
one  another.     Is  that  so  or  not  ?  " 

"  What  does  that  lead  to,  Mark  !  " 

"  If  you  don't  believe  me,  look  around  you.  You 
have  spent  your  whole  life  in  the  woods  and  fields, 
and  do  you  learn  nothing  from  what  you  see  in  all 
directions  ?  "  he  asked,  pointing  to  a  swarm  of  flying 
pigeons,  and  to  the  nesting  swallows.  "  Learn  from 
them  ;  they  deal  in  no  subtleties  I  " 

"  Yes,  they  circle  round  their  nests.  One  has 
flown  away,  probably  in  search  of  food." 


THE    PRECIPICE  175 

"  When  winter  comes  they  will  all  separate." 

"  And  return  in  spring  to  the  same  nest." 

"  I  believe  you  when  you  talk  reasonably.  Vera. 
You  felt  injured  by  my  rough  manners,  and  I  am 
making  every  effort.  I  have  transformed  myself 
to  the  old-fashioned  pattern,  and  shall  soon  shift 
my  feet  and  smile  when  I  make  my  bow  like  Tiet 
Nikonich.  I  don't  give  way  to  the  desire  to  abuse  or 
to  quarrel  with  anybody,  and  draw  no  attention  to 
my  doings.  I  shall  next  be  making  up  my  mind  to 
attend  Mass,  what  else  should  I  do  ?  " 

"  You  are  in  the  mood  for  joking,  but  joking  is  not 
what  I  wanted,"  sighed  Vera. 

"  What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  " 

"  So  far  I  have  not  even  been  able  to  persuade  you 
to  spare  yourself  for  my  sake,  to  cease  your  baptisms, 
to  live  like  other  people." 

"  But  if  I  act  in  accordance  with  my  convictions  ?  " 

"  What  is  your  aim  ?     What  do  you  hope  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  teach  fools." 

"  Do  you  even  know  yourself  what  you  teach,  for 
what  you  have  been  struggling  for  a  whole  year  ?  To 
live  the  life  that  you  prescribe  is  not  within  the  bounds 
of  possibility.     It  is  all  very  new  and  bold,  but.  ..." 

"  There  we  are  again  at  the  same  old  point.  I  can 
hear  the  old  lady  piping,"  he  laughed  scornfully, 
pointing  in  the  direction  of  the  house.  "  You  speak 
with  her  voice." 

"  Is  that  your  whole  answer,  Mark  ?  Everything 
is  a  lie  ;  therefore,  away  with  it !  But  the  absence 
of  any  notion  of  what  truth  is  to  supersede  the  lies 
makes  me  distrustful." 

"  You  set  reflexion  above  nature  and  passion.    You 
are  noble,   and  you  naturally   desire  marriage.     But 
that  has  nothing  to  do  with  love,  and  it  is  love  and 
happiness  that  I  seek." 
r  Vera  rose  and  looked  at  him  with  blazing  eyes. 

"If  I  wished  only  for  marriage,  Mark,  I  should 
naturally  make  another  choice." 

"  Pardon  me,  I  was  rude,"  he  said  in  real  embarrass- 
ment, and  kissed  her  hand.     "  But,  Vera,  you  repress 


176  THE    PRECIPICE 

your  love,  you  are  afraid,  and  instead  of  giving 
yourself  up  to  the  pleasure  of  it  you  are  for  ever 
analysing." 

"  I  try  to  find  out  who  and  what  you  are,  because 
love  is  not  a  passing  pleasure  to  me,  but  you  look  on 
it  as  a  distraction." 

"  No,  as  a  daily  need  of  life,  which  is  no  matter  for 
jesting.  Like  Raisky,  I  cannot  sleep  through  the 
long  nights,  and  I  suffer  nervous  torture  that  I  could 
not  have  believed  possible.  You  say  you  love  me  ; 
that  I  love  you  is  plain  ?  But  I  call  you  to  happiness 
and  you  are  afraid.  ..." 

"  I  do  not  want  happiness  for  a  month,  for  six 
months " 

"  For  your  life  long,  and  even  after  death  ?  "  asked 
Mark,  scornfully." 

"  For  life  !  I  do  not  want  to  foresee  an  ultimate 
limit.  I  do  not  and  will  not  believe  in  happiness  with 
a  term.  But  I  do  believe  in  another  kind  of  intimate 
happiness,  and  I  want.  ..." 

"  To  make  me  embrace  the  same  belief." 

"  Yes,  I  know  no  other  happiness,  and  I  would 
scorn  it  if  I  knew  it." 

"  Good-bye,  Vera.  You  do  not  love  me,  but  are 
for  ever  disputing,  analysing  either  my  character 
or  the  nature  of  happiness.  We  always  get  back 
to  the  point  from  which  we  started.  I  think  it  is  your 
destiny  to  love  Raisky.  You  can  make  what  you 
will  of  him,  can  deck  him  out  with  all  your  Aunt's 
tags,  and  evolve  a  new  hero  of  romance  every  day, 
for  ever  and  ever.  I  haven't  the  time  for  that  kind 
of  thing.     I  have  work  to  do." 

"  Ah  work,  and  love,  with  happiness  as  an  after- 
thought, a  trifle.  .  .  ." 

"  Do  you  wish  to  build  a  life  out  of  love  after  the 
old  fashion,  a  life  such  as  that  lived  by  the  swallows 
who  leave  their  nest  only  to  seek  food." 

"  You  would  fly  for  a  moment  into  a  strange  nest, 
and  then  forget." 

"  Yes,  if  forgetting  is  so  easy  ;  but  if  one  cannot 
forget,  one  returns.     But  must   I  return  if   I  don't 


THE    PRECIPICE  177 

want  to  ?  Is  that  compatible  with  freedom  ?  Would 
you  ask  that  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  understand  a  bird's  life  of  that  kind." 

"  Farewell,  Vera.  We  were  mistaken.  I  want  a 
comrade,  not  a  school  girl." 

"  Yes,  Mark,  a  comrade,  strong  like  yourself,  I 
agree.    A  comrade  for  the  whole  of  life,  is  that  not  so  ?  " 

"  I  thought,"  said  Mark  as  if  he  had  not  heard 
her  last  question,  "  that  we  should  soon  be  united, 
and  that  whether  we  separrTted  again  must  depend  on 
temperament  and  circumstances.  You  make  your 
analysis  in  advance,  so"  that  your  judgment  is  as 
crooked  and  twisted  as  an  old  maid's  coiild  be.  You 
don't  look  to  the  quarter  whence  truth  and  light 
must  come.  Sleep,  my  child.  I  was  mistaken. 
Farewell  once  more.  Wc  will  try  to  avoid  one  another 
in  the  future." 

"  We  will  try.  But  can  we  really  not  find  happiness 
together  ?  What  is  the  hindrance  ?  "  she  asked,  in  a 
low,  agitated  tone,  touching  his  hand. 

Mark  shouldered  his  gun  in  silence,  and  walked 
out  of  the  arbour  into  the  brushwood.  Vera  stood 
motionless  as  if  she  were  in  a  deep  sleep.  Overcome 
by  grief  and  amazement,  she  could  not  believe  he 
was  really  leaving  her.  Where  there  is  no  trust 
there  is  no  love,  she  thought.  She  did  not  trust  him, 
and  yet,  if  she  did  not  love  him,  why  was  her  grief 
and  pain  at  his  going  so  great.  Why  did  she  feel 
that  death  itself  would  be  welcome  ? 

"  Mark  !  "  she  cried  in  a  low  voice.  He  did  not  look 
round,  and  although  she  repeated  the  cry  he  strode 
forward.  "  Mark  !  "  she  cried  breathlessly  a  third 
time,  but  he  still  pursued  his  path.  Her  face  faded, 
but  mechanically  she  picked  up  her  handkerchief 
and  her  parasol  and  mounted  the  cliff.  Were  truth 
and  love  to  be  found  there  where  her  heart  called  her  ? 
Or  did  truth  lie  in  the  little  chapel  that  she  was  now 
approaching  ? 

For  four  days  Vera  wandered  in  the  park,  and 
waited  in  the  arbour,  but  Mark  did  not  come.     There 


178  THE    PRECIPICE 

was  no  reply  to  the  call  of  her  heart.  She  no  longer 
hid  her  movements  from  Raisky,  who  came  upon  her 
from  time  to  time  in  the  chapel.  She  allowed  him  to 
accompany  her  to  the  little  village  church  on  the  hill 
where  she  usually  went  alone.  She  remained  on  her 
knees  with  bowed  head  for  a  long  time,  while  he 
stood  motionless  behind  her.  Then  without  a  word 
or  a  glance,  she  took  his  arm,  to  return  wearily  to 
the  old  house,  where  they  parted.  Vera  knew  nothing 
of  his  secret  suffering,  of  the  passionate  love  which 
attracted  him  to  her,  the  double  love  of  a  mart  for  a 
woman,  and  of  an  artist  for  his  ideal. 

Raisky  wondered  what  the  shots  meant.  It  need 
not  necessarily  be  love  that  drove  her  to  the  rendezvous. 
There  might  be  a  secret  of  another  kind,  but  the  key 
to  the  mystery  lay  in  her  heart.  There  was  no  salva- 
tion for  her  except  in  love,  and  he  longed  to  give  her 
protection  and  freedom. 

Again  he  found  her  at  twilight  praying  in  the 
chapel,  but  this  time  she  was  calm  and  her  eyes  clear. 
She  gave  him  her  hand,  and  was  plainly  pleased 
to  see  him. 

"  You  cannot  imagine.  Vera,"  he  said,  "  how  happy 
it  makes  me  to  see  you  calmer.  What  has  given  you 
peace  ?  " 

She  glanced  towards  the  chapel. 

"  You  don't  go  down  there  any  more  ?  "  he  said, 
pointing  to  the  precipice. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  Thank  God  !  "  he  cried.  "  If  you  are  going  home 
now,  take  my  arm,"  he  said,  and  they  walked  together 
along  the  path  leading  across  the  meadow.  "  You 
have  been  fighting  a  hard  and  despairing  battle,  Vera. 
So  much  you  do  not  conceal.  Are  you  going  to 
conquer  this  agonising  and  dangerous  passion  ?  " 

"  And  if  I  do.  Cousin  ?  "  she  asked  despondently. 

"  The  richer  for  a  great  experience,  strengthened 
against  future  storms,  your  portion  will  be  a  great 
happiness,  sufficient  to  fill  your  whole  life." 

"  I  cannot  comprehend  any  other  happiness,"  she 
said,  thoughtfully.     She  stood  still,  leaning  her  head 


THE    PRECIPICE  179 

on  his  shoulder,  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  He 
did  not  know  that  he  had  probed  her  wound  by  touching 
on  the  very  point  that  had  caused  her  separation 
from  Mark. 

At  that  moment  there  was  the  report  of  a  shot  in  the 
depths  below  the  precipice,  and  the  sound  was  re- 
echoed from  the  hills.  Raisky  and  Vera  both  started. 
She  stood  listening  for  a  moment.  Her  eyes,  still 
wet  with  tears,  were  wide  and  staring  now.  Then  she 
loosed  her  hold  of  his  arm,  and  hurried  in  the  direction 
of  the  precipice,  with  Raisky  hurrying  at  her  heels. 
When  she  had  gone  half  way,  she  stopped,  laid  her 
hand  on  her  heart,  and  listened  once  more. 

"  A  few  minutes  ago  your  mind  was  made  up.  Vera  !  " 

Raisky's  face  was  pale,  and  his  agitation  nearly  as 
great  as  hers.  She  did  not  hear  his  words,  and  she 
looked  at  him  without  seeing  him.  Then  she  took  a 
few  steps  in  the  direction  of  the  precipice,  but  suddenly 
turned  to  go  slowly  towards  the  chapel. 

"  I  am  not  going,"  she  whispered.  "  Why  does  he 
call  me  ?  It  cannot  be  that  he  has  changed  his 
attitude  in  the  last  few  days." 

She  sank  down  on  her  knees  before  the  sacred 
picture,  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands.  Raisky 
came  up  to  her,  and  implored  her  not  to  go.  She 
herself  gazed  at  the  picture  with  expressionless, 
hopeless  eyes.  When  she  rose  she  shuddered,  and 
seemed  unaware  of  Raisky's  presence. 

A  shot  sounded  once  more.  With  a  cry  Vera  ran 
over  the  meadow  towards  the  cliff.  Perhaps  my 
conviction  has  conquered,  she  thought.  Why  else 
should  he  call  her  ?  Her  feet  hardly  seemed  to  touch 
the  grass  as  she  ran  into  the  avenue  that  led  to  the 
precipice. 


CHAPTER  XX 

Vera  came  that  night  to  supper  with  a  gloomy  face. 
She  eagerly  drank  a  glass  of  milk,  but  offered  no 
remark  to  anyone. 

"  Why  are  you  so  unhappy,  Veroshka  ?  "  asked 
her  aunt,     "  Don't  you  feel  well." 

"  I  was  afraid  to  ask,"  interposed  Tiet  Nikonich 
politely.  "  I  could  not  help  noticing,  Vera  Vassilievna, 
that  you  have  been  altered  for  some  time  ;  you  seem 
to  have  grown  thinner  and  paler.  The  change  becomes 
your  looks,  but  the  symptoms  ought  not  to  be  over- 
looked, as  they  might  indicate  the  approach  of  illness." 

"  I  have  a  little  tooth-ache,  but  it  will  soon  pass," 
answered  Vera  unwillingly. 

Tatiana  Markovna  looked  away  sadly  enough,  but 
said  nothing,  while  Raisky  tapped  his  plate  absently 
with  a  fork,  but  ate  nothing,  and  maintained  a  gloomy 
silence.  Only  Marfinka  and  Vikentev  took  every  dish 
that  was  offered  them,  and  chattered  without  inter- 
mission. 

Vera  soon  took  her  leave,  followed  by  Raisky.  She 
went  into  the  park,  and  stood  at  the  top  of  the  cliff 
looking  down  into  the  dark  wood  below  her  ;  then  she 
wrapped  herself  in  her  mantilla,  and  sat  down  on  the 
bench.  Silently  she  acceded  to  Raisky's  request  to 
be  allowed  to  sit  down  beside  her. 

"  You  are  in  trouble,  and  are  suffering,  Vera." 

"  I  have  tooth-ache." 

"It  is  your  heart  that  aches.  Vera.  Share  your 
trouble  with  me." 

"  I  make  no  complaint." 

"  You  have  an  unhappy  love  affair,  with  whom  ?  " 

She  did  not  answer.  She  knew  that  her  hopes 
were  still  not  dead,  mad  though  they  might  be.     What 


THE    PRECIPICE  i8i 

if  she  went  away  for  a  week  or  two  to  breathe,  to 
conjure  up  her  strength. 

"  Cousin,"  she  said  at  last,  "  to-morrow  at  day- 
break I  am  going  across  the  Volga,  and  may  stay 
away  longer  than  usual.  I  have  not  said  good-bye 
to  Grandmother.     Please  say  it  for  me." 

"  I  will  go  away  too." 

"  Wait,  Cousin,  until  I  am  a  little  calmer.  Perhaps 
then  I  can  confide  in  you,  and  we  can  part  like  brother 
and  sister,  but  now  it  is  impossible.  Still,  in  case  you 
do  go  away,  let  us  say  good-bye  now.  Forgive  me  my 
strange  ways,  and  let  me  give  you  a  sister's  kiss." 

She  kissed  him  on  the  forehead  and  walked  quickly 
away,  but  she  had  only  taken  a  few  steps  before  she 
paused  to  say  :  "  Thank  you  for  all  you  have  done  for 
me.  I  have  not  the  strength  to  tell  you  how  grateful 
I  am  for  your  friendship,  and  above  all  for  this  place. 
Farewell,  and  forgive  me." 

"  Vera,"  he  cried  in  painful  haste.  "  Let  me  stay 
as  long  as  you  are  here  or  are  in  the  neighbourhood. 
Even  if  we  don't  see  one  another,  I  yet  know  where 
you  are.  I  will  wait  till  you  are  calmer,  till  you  fulfil 
your  promise,  and  confide  in  me,  as  you  have  said 
you  would.  You  won't  be  far  away,  and  we  can  at 
least  write  to  one  another.  Give  me  at  least  this 
consolation,  for  God's  sake,"  he  murmured  passion- 
ately. "  Leave  me  at  least  that  Paradise  which  is 
next  door  to  Hell." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  distraught  air,  and  bent 
her  head  in  assent.  But  she  saw  the  glow  of  delight 
which  swept  over  his  agitated  face,  and  wondered 
sorrowfully  why  he  did  not  speak  like  that. 

"  I  will  put  off  my  journey  till  the  day  after  to- 
morrow. Good-night  !  "  she  said,  and  gave  him  her 
hand  to  kiss  before  they  separated. 

Early  next  day  Vera  gave  Marina  a  note  with 
instructions  to  deliver  it  and  to  wait  for  the  answer. 
After  the  receipt  of  the  answer  she  grew  more  cheerful 
and  went  out  for  a  walk  along  the  riverside.  That 
evening  she  told  her  aunt  that  she  was  going  on  a  visit 


i82  THE    PRECIPICE 

to  Natalie  Ivanovna,  and  took  leave  of  them  all, 
promising  Raisky  not  to  forget  him. 

The  next  day  a  fisherman  from  the  Volga  brought 
him  a  letter  from  Vera,  in  which  she  called  him 
"  dear  cousin,"  and  seemed  to  look  forward  to  a 
happier  future.  Into  the  friendly  tone  of  the  letter 
he  contrived  to  read  tender  feeling,  and  he  forgot,  in 
his  delight,  his  doubts,  his  anxiety,  the  blue  letters, 
and  the  precipice.  He  wrote  and  dispatched 
immediately   a  brief,  affectionate  reply. 

Vera's  letter  aroused  in  him  the  artist  sense,  and 
drove  him  to  set  out  his  chaotic  emotions  in  defined 
form.  He  sought  to  crystallise  his  thoughts  and 
affections  ;  his  very  passion  took  artistic  shape,  and 
assumed  in  the  clear  light  Vera's  charming  features, 

"  What  are  you  scribbling  day  and  night  ?  "  inquired 
Tatiana  Markovna.  "Is  it  a  play  or  another 
novel  ?  " 

"  I  write  and  write,  Granny,  and  don't  know  myself 
how  it  will  end," 

"  I  doesn't  matter  what  the  child  does  so  long  as  he 
is  amused,"  she  remarked,  not  altogether  missing  the 
character  of  Raisky's  occupation.  "  But  why  do  you 
write  at  night,  when  I  am  so  afraid  of  fire,  and  you 
might  fall  asleep  over  your  drama.  You  will  make 
yourself  ill,  and  you  often  look  as  yellow  as  an  over-ripe 
gherkin  as  it  is." 

He  looked  in  the  glass,  and  was  struck  with  his  own 
appearance.  Yellow  patches  were  visible  on  the  nose 
and  temples,  and  there  were  grey  threads  in  his  thick, 
black  hair. 

"  If  I  were  fair,"  he  grumbled,  "  I  should  not  age  so 
quickly.  Don't  bother  about  me,  Granny,  but  leave 
me  my  freedom,     I  can't  sleep." 

"  You  too  ask  me  for  freedom,  like  Vera,  It  is  as 
if  I  held  you  both  in  chains,"  she  added  with  an 
anxious  sigh,  "Go  on  writing,  Borushka,  but  not  at 
night.  I  cannot  sleep  in  peace,  for  when  I  look  at 
your  window  the  light  is  always  burning," 

"  I  will  answer  for  it.  Grandmother,  that  there  shall 
be  no  fire,  and  if  I  myself  were  to  be  burnt,  ,  ,  ," 


THE    PRECIPICE  183 

"  Touch  wood  !  Do  not  tempt  fate.  Remember 
the  saying  that  '  my  tongue  is  my  enemy.'  " 

Suddenly  Raisky  sprang  from  the  divan  and  ran  to 
the  window, 

"  There  is  a  peasant  bringing  a  letter  from  Vera," 
he  cried,  as  he  hurried  out  of  the  room. 

"  One  might  think  it  was  his  father  in  person," 
said  Tatiana  Markovna  to  herself.  "  How  many 
candles  he  burns  with  his  novels  and  plays,  as  many 
as  four  in  a  night  I  " 

Again  Raisky  received  a  few  lines  from  Vera.  She 
wrote  that  she  was  longing  to  see  him  again,  and  that 
she  wanted  to  ask  for  his  services.  She  added  the 
following  postscript : — 

"  Dear  Friend  and  Cousin,  you  taught  me  to  love  and  to 
suffer,  and  poured  the  strength  of  your  love  into  my  soul. 
This  it  is  that  gives  me  courage  to  ask  you  to  do  a  good  deed. 
There  is  here  an  unhappy  man  who  has  been  driven  from 
his  home  and  lies  under  the  suspicion  of  the  Government.  He 
has  no  place  to  lay  his  head,  and  everyone,  either  from 
indifference  or  fear,  avoids  him.  But  you  are  kind  and 
generous,  and  cannot  be  indifferent  ;  still  less  will  you  hesitate 
to  do  a  deed  of  pure  charity.  The  wretched  man  has  not  a 
kopek,  has  no  clothes,  and  autumn  is  coming  on. 

"  If  your  heart  tells  you,  as  I  don't  doubt  it  will,  what  to  do, 
address  the  wife  of  the  acolyte,  Sekleteia  Burdalakov,  but 
arrange  it  so  that  neither  Grandmother,  nor  anyone  at  home, 
knows  anything  of  it.  A  sum  of  three  hundred  roubles  will 
be  sufficient,  I  think,  to  provide  for  him  for  a  whole  year, 
perhaps  two  hundred  and  fifty  would  suffice.  Will  you  put 
in  a  cloak  and  a  warm  vest  (in  my  firm  belief  in  your  kind 
heart  and  your  love  to  me,  I  enclose  the  measures  taken  by 
the  village  tailor)  to  protect  him  from  the  cold. 

"  I  don't  like  to  ask  you  for  a  rug  for  him  ;  that  would 
be  to  make  an  unfair  use  of  kindness.  In  the  winter  the 
poor  exile  will  probably  leave  the  place,  and  will  bless  you, 
and  to  some  degree  me  as  well.  I  would  not  liave  troubled 
you,  but  you  know  that  my  Grandmother  has  all  my  money, 
which  is  therefore  inaccessible." 

"  What  on  earth  is  the  meaning  of  this  postscript  ?  " 
cried  Raisky.  "  The  whole  note  is  certainly  not  from 
her  hand  ;  she  could  not  have  written  like  this." 

He  threw  himself  on  the  divan  in  a  fit  of  nervous 
laughter.     He    was    in    Tatiana    Markovna's    sitting- 


i84  THE    PRECIPICE 

room,  with  Vikentev  and  Marfinka.  At  first  the 
lovers  laughed,  but  stopped  when  they  saw  the  violent 
character  of  his  mirth.  Tatiana  Markovna,  who  came 
in  at  this  moment,  offered  him  some  drops  of  cordial 
in  a  teaspoon, 

"  No,  Grandmother,"  he  cried,  still  laughing 
violently.  "  Don't  give  me  drops,  but  three  hundred 
roubles." 

"  What  do  you  want  the  money  for  ?  "  said  Tatiana 
Markovna  hesitating.  "  Is  it  for  Markushka  again. 
You  had  much  better  ask  him  to  return  the  eighty 
roubles  he  has  had." 

He  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  bargain,  and 
eventually  had  to  content  himself  with  two  hundred 
and  fifty  roubles,  which  he  dispatched  next  day  to  the 
address  given.  He  also  ordered  the  cloak  and  vest, 
and  bought  a  warm  rug,  to  be  sent  in  a  few  days. 

"  I  thank  you  heartily,  and  with  tears,  dear  Cousin,"  ran 
the  letter  he  received  in  return  for  his  gifts.  "  I  cannot  express 
in  writing  the  gratitude  I  feel.  Heaven,  not  I,  will  reward 
you.  How  delighted  the  poor  exile  was  with  your  gift.  He 
laughed  for  joy,  and  is  wearing  the  new  things.  He  immedi- 
ately paid  his  landlord  his  three  months'  arrears  of  rent, 
and  a  month  in  advance.  He  only  allowed  himself  to  spend 
three  roubles  in  cigars,  which  he  has  not  smoked  for  a  long 
time,  and  smoking  is  his  only  passion." 

Although  the  apocryphal  nature  of  this  remarkable 
missive  was  quite  clear  to  Raisky,  he  did  not  hesitate 
to  add  a  box  of  cigars  to  his  gift  for  the  "  poor  exile." 
It  was  enough  for  him  that  Vera's  name  was  attached 
to  this  pressing  request.  He  observed  the  course  of 
his  own  passion  as  a  physician  does  disease.  As  he 
watched  the  clouds  driven  before  the  wind,  or  looked 
at  the  green  carpet  of  the  earth,  now  taking  on  sad 
autumnal  hues,  he  realised  that  Nature  was  marching 
on  her  way  through  never  ending  change,  with  not  a 
moment's  stagnation.  He  alone  brooded  idly  with 
no  prize  in  view.  He  asked  himself  anxiously  what 
his  duty  was,  and  begged  that  Reason  would  shed 
some  light  on  his  way,  give  him  boldness  to  leap  over 


THE    PRECIPICE  185 

the  funeral  pyre  of  his  hopes.     Reason  told  him  to 
seek  safety  in  flight. 

He  drove  into  the  town  to  buy  some  necessities  for 
the  journey,  and  there  met  the  Governor  who  re- 
proached him  with  having  hidden  himself  for  so  long. 
Raisky  excused  himself  on  the  ground  of  ill-health, 
and  spoke  of  his  approaching  departure. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  It  is  all  one  to  me,"  returned  Raisky  gloomily. 
"  Here  I  am  so  bored  that  I  must  seek  some  distraction. 
I  intend  going  to  St.  Petersburg,  then  to  my  estate 
in  the  government  of  R and  then  perhaps  abroad." 

"  I  don't  wonder  that  you  are  bored  with  staying 
in  the  same  spot,  since  you  avoid  society,  and  must 
need  distraction.  Will  you  make  an  expedition  with 
me  ?  I  am  starting  on  a  tour  of  the  district  to-morrow, 
why  not  come  with  me  ?  You  will  see  much  that  is 
beautiful,  and,  being  a  poet,  you  will  collect  new 
impressions.  We  will  travel  for  a  hundred  versts 
by  river.     Don't  forget  your  sketch-book." 

Raisky  shook  the  Governor's  proffered  hand,  and 
accepted.  The  Governor  showed  him  his  well-equipped 
travelling  carriage,  declared  that  his  kitchen  would 
travel  with  him,  and  cards  should  not  be  forgotten, 
and  promised  himself  a  gayer  journey  than  would 
have  been  possible  in  the  sole  society  of  a  busy  secretary. 

Raisky  felt  a  relief  in  the  firm  determination  he 
now  made  to  conquer  his  passion,  and  decided  not 
to  return  from  this  journey,  but  to  have  his  effects 
sent  after  him.  While  he  was  away  he  wrote  in  thib 
sense  to  Vera,  telling  her  that  his  life  in  Malinovka 
had  been  like  an  evil  dream  full  of  suffering,  and  that 
if  he  ever  saw  the  place  again  it  would  be  at  some 
distant  date. 

A  day  or  two  later  he  received  a  short  answer  from 
Vera  dated  from  Malinovka.  Marfinka's  birthday 
fell  during  the  next  week,  and  when  the  festival  was 
over  she  was  to  go  on  a  long  visit  to  her  future  mother- 
in-law.  If  Raisky  did  not  make  some  sacrifice  and 
return,  a  sacrifice  to  her  grandmother  and  herself, 
Tatiana  Markovna  would  be  terribly  lonely. 


i86  THE    PRECIPICE 

Next  evening  he  had  a  letter  from  Vera  acquiescing 
in  his  intention  of  leaving  Malinovka  without  seeing 
her  again,  and  saying  that  immediately  after  the 
dispatch  of  this  letter  she  would  go  over  to  her  friend 
on  the  other  side  of  the  Volga,  but  she  hoped  that  he 
would  go  to  say  good-bye  to  Tatiana  Markovna  and  the 
rest  of  the  household,  as  his  departure  without  any 
farewell  must  necessarily  cause  surprise  in  the  town, 
and  would  hurt  Tatiana  Markovna 's  feelings. 

This  answer  relieved  him  enormously.  On  the 
afternoon  of  the  next  day,  when  he  alighted  from 
the  carriage  in  the  outskirts  of  the  town  and  bade 
his  travelling  host  good-bye,  he  was  in  good  enough 
spirits  as  he  picked  up  his  bag  and  made  his  way  to 
the  house. 

Marfinka  and  Vikentev  were  the  first  to  meet  him, 
the  dogs  leaped  to  welcome  him,  the  servants  hurried 
up,  and  the  whole  household  showed  such  genuine 
pleasure  at  his  return  that  he  was  moved  almost  to 
tears.  He  looked  anxiously  round  to  see  if  Vera  was 
there,  but  one  and  another  hastened  to  tell  him  that 
Vera  had  gone  away.  He  ought  to  have  been  glad  to 
hear  this  news,  but  he  heard  it  with  a  spasm  of  pain. 
When  he  entered  his  aunt's  room  she  sent  Pashutka 
out  and  locked  the  door. 

"  How  anxiously  I  have  been  expecting  you !  " 
she  said.     "  I  wanted  to  send  a  messenger  for  you." 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  *'  he  exclaimed,  pale  with 
terror  in  fear  of  bad  news  of  Vera. 

"  Your  friend  Leonti  Ivanovich  is  ill." 

"  Poor  fellow  !  What  is  wrong  ?  Is  it  dangerous  ? 
I  will  go  to  him  at  once." 

"  I  will  have  the  horses  put  in.  In  the  meantime 
I  may  as  well  tell  you  what  is  known  all  over  the  town. 
I  have  kept  it  secret  from  Marfinka  only,  and  Vera 
already  knows  it.  His  wife  has  left  him,  and  he 
has  fallen  ill.  Yesterday  and  the  day  before  the 
Koslovs'  cook  came  to  fetch  you." 

"  Where  has  she  gone  ?  " 

"  Away  with  the  Frenchman,  Charles,  who  was 
suddenly   called   to   St.    Petersburg.     She    pretended 


THE    PRECIPICE  187 

she  was  going  to  stay  with  her  relations  in  Moscow 
and  said  that  Monsieur  Charles  would  accompany 
her  so  far.  She  extracted  from  Koslov  a  pass  giving 
her  permission  to  live  alone,  and  is  now  with  Charles 
in  St.  Petersburg." 

"  Her  relations  with  Charles,"  replied  Raisky, 
"  were  no  secret  to  anybody  except  her  husband. 
Everyone  will  laugh  at  him,  but  he  will  understand 
nothing,  and  his  wife  will  return." 

"  You  have  not  heard  the  end.  On  her  way  she 
wrote  to  her  husband  telling  him  to  forget  her,  not 
to  expect  her  return,  because  she  could  no  longer  endure 
living  with  him." 

"  The  fool  I  Just  as  if  she  had  not  made  scandal 
enough.  Poor  Leonti  !  I  will  go  to  him,  how  sorry 
I  am  for  him." 

"  Yes,  Borushka,  I  am  sorry  for  him  too,  and  should 
like  to  have  gone  to  see  him.  He  has  the  simple 
honesty  of  a  child.  God  has  given  him  learning, 
but  no  common  sense,  and  he  is  buried  in  his  books. 
I  wonder  who  is  looking  after  him  now.  If  you  find 
he  is  not  being  properly  cared  for,  bring  him  here.  The 
old  house  is  empty,  and  we  can  establish  him  there 
for  the  time  being.  I  will  have  two  rooms  got  ready 
for  him." 

"  What  a  woman  you  are.  Grandmother.  While 
I  am  thinking,  you  have  acted." 

When  he  reached  Koslov's  house-  he  found  the 
shutters  of  the  grey  house  were  closed,  and  he  had  to 
knock  repeatedly  before  he  was  admitted.  He  passed 
through  the  ante-room  into  the  dining-room  and  stood 
uncertain  before  the  study  door,  hesitating  whether 
he  should  knock  or  go  straight  in.  Suddenly  the 
door  opened,  and  there  stood  before  him,  dressed 
in  a  woman's  dressing-gown  and  slippers,  Mark  Volokov, 
unbrushed,  sleepy,  pale,  thin  and  sinister. 

"  The  evil  one  has  brought  you  at  last,"  he  grumbled 
half  in  surprise  and  half  in  vexation.  "  Where  have 
you  been  all  this  time  ?  I  have  hardly  slept  for  two 
nights.  His  pupils  are  about  in  the  day  time,  but 
at  night  he  is  alone." 


i88  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  him  ?  " 

"  Has  no  one  told  you.  That  she-goat  has  gone. 
I  was  pleased  to  hear  it,  and  came  at  once  to  congratu- 
late him,  but  I  found  him  with  not  a  drop  of  blood 
in  his  face,  with  dazed  eyes,  and  unable  to  recognise 
anyone.  He  just  escaped  brain  fever.  Instead 
of  weeping  for  joy,  the  man  has  nearly  died  of  sorrow. 
I  fetched  the  doctor,  but  Koslov  sent  him  away,  and 
walked  up  and  down  the  room  like  one  demented. 
Now  he  is  sleeping,  so  we  will  not  disturb  him.  I  will 
go,  and  you  must  stay,  and  see  that  he  does  not  do 
himself  some  injury  in  a  fit  of  melancholy.  He  listens 
to  no  one,  and  I  have  been  tempted  to  smack  him." 
Mark  spit  with  vexation.  "  You  can't  depend  on 
his  idiot  of  a  cook.  Yesterday  the  woman  gave  him 
some  tooth  powder  instead  of  his  proper  powder. 
I  am  going  to  dismiss  her  to-morrow." 

Raisky  watched  him  in  amazement,  and  offered 
his  hand. 

"  What  favour  is  this  ?  "  said  Mark  bitterly,  and 
without  taking  the  proffered  hand. 

"  I  thank  you  for  having  stood  by  my  old  friend." 

Mark  seized  Raisky's  hand  and  shook  it. 

"  I  have  been  looking  for  some  means  of  serving 
you  for  a  long  time." 

"  Why,  Volokov,  are  you  for  ever  executing  quick 
changes  like  a  clown  in  a  circus  ?  " 

"  What  the  devil  have  I  to  do  with  your  gratitude  ? 
I  am  not  here  for  that,  but  on  Koslov's  account." 

"  God  be  with  you  and  your  manners,  Mark 
Ivanovich  !  "  replied  Raisky.  "  In  any  case,  you  have 
done  a  good  deed." 

"  More  praise.  You  can  be  as  sentimental  as  you 
like  for  all  I  care.  .  .  ." 

"  I  will  take  Leonti  home  with  me,"  resumed 
Raisky.  "  He  will  be  absolutely  at  home  there,  and 
if  his  troubles  do  not  blow  over  he  will  have  his  own 
quiet  corner  all  his  life." 

"  Bravo  !  that  is  deeds,  not  words.  Koslov  would 
wither  without  a  home  and  without  care.  It  is  an 
excellent  idea  you  have  taken  into  your  head." 


THE    PRECIPICE  189 

"  It  comes  not  from  me,  but  from  a  woman,  and 
not  from  her  head,  but  from  her  heart.  My  Aunt.  .  .  ." 

"  The  old  lady  has  a  sound  heart.  I  must  go  and 
breakfast  with  her  one  day.  It  is  a  pity  she  has 
amassed  so  many  foolish  ideas.  Now  I  am  going. 
Look  after  Koslov,  if  not  personally,  through  some  one 
else.  The  day  before  yesterday  his  head  had  to  be 
cooled  all  day,  and  at  night  cabbage  leaves  should  be 
laid  on  it.  I  was  a  little  disturbed,  because  in  his 
dazed  state  he  got  the  cabbage  and  began  to  eat  it. 
Good-bye  !  I  have  neither  slept  nor  eaten,  though 
Avdotya  has  treated  me  to  a  horrible  brew  of 
coffee.  .  .  ." 

"  Allow  me  to  send  the  coachman  home  to  fetch 
some  supper,"  said  Raisky. 

"  I  would  rather  eat  at  home." 

"  Perhaps  you  have  no  money,"  said  Raisky 
nervously  drawing  out  his  pocket  book. 

"  I  have  money,"  said  Mark  enigmatically,  hardly 
able  to  restrain  a  callous  laugh,  "  I  am  going  to  the 
bath-house  before  I  have  my  supper,  as  I  haven't 
been  able  to  undress  here.  I  have  changed  my 
quarters,  and  now  live  with  a  clerical  personage." 

"  You  look  ill,  thin,  and  your  eyes.  .  .  ." 

Mark's  face  gicw  more  evil  and  sinister  than  before. 

"  You  too  look  worse,"  he  said.  "  If  you  look  in 
the  glass  you  will  see  yellow  patches  and  hollow  eyes." 

"  I  have  many  causes  of  anxiety." 

"  So  have  I.     Good-bye,"  said  Mark,  and  was  gone. 

Raisky  went  into  the  study  and  walked  up  to  the 
bed  on  tiptoe. 

"  Who  is  there  ?  "  asked  Leonti  feebly. 

When  Leonti  recognised  Raisky  he  pushed  his 
feet  out  of  bed,  and  sat  up. 

"Is  he  gone  ?  "  he  asked  weakly.  "  I  pretended 
to  be  asleep.  You  have  not  been  for  so  long,  and  I 
have  been  expecting  you  all  the  time.  The  face  of 
an  old  comrade  is  the  only  one  that  I  can  bear  to  see." 

"  I  have  been  away,  and  heard  when  I  returned 
of  your  illness." 

"It  is  gossip.     There  is  a  conspiracy  to  say  I  am 


190  THE    PRECIPICE 

ill,  which  is  all  foolish  talk.  Mark,  who  even  fetched 
a  doctor,  has  been  hanging  about  here  as  if  he  were 
afraid  I  should  do  myself  an  injury,"  said  Leonti 
and  paced  up  and  down  the  room, 

"  You  are  weak,  and  walk  with  difficulty,"  said 
Raisky.     "  It  would  be  better  for  you  to  lie  down." 

"  I  am  weak,  that  is  true,"  admitted  Leonti. 

He  bent  over  the  chair-back  to  Raisky,  embraced 
him,  and  laid  his  face  against  his  hair.  Raisky  felt 
hot  tears  on  his  forehead  and  cheeks. 

"  It  is  weakness,"  sobbed  Leonti.  "  But  I  am  not 
ill,  and  have  not  brain  fever.  They  talk,  but  don't 
understand.  And  I  understood  nothing  either,  but 
now  that  I  see  you,  I  cannot  keep  back  my  tears. 
Don't  abuse  me  like  Mark,  or  laugh  at  me,  as  they 
all  do,  my  colleagues  and  my  sympathetic  visitors. 
I  can  discern  malicious  laughter  on  all  their  faces." 

"  I  respect  and  understand  your  tears  and  your 
sorrow,"  said  Raisky,  stifling  his  own  tears. 

"  You  are  my  kind  old  comrade.  Even  at  school 
you  never  laughed  at  me,  and  do  you  know  why 
I  weep  ?  " 

Leonti  took  a  letter  from  his  desk  and  handed  it 
to  Raisky.  It  was  the  letter  from  Juliana  Andreevna 
of  which  Tatiana  Markovna  had  spoken.  Raisky 
glanced  through  it. 

"  Destroy  it,"  he  said.  "  You  will  have  no  peace 
while  it  is  in  your  possession." 

"  Destroy  it  !  "  said  Leonti,  seizing  the  letter,  and 
replacing  it  in  the  desk.  "  How  is  it  possible  to  think 
of  such  a  thing,  when  these  are  the  only  lines  she 
has  written  me,  and  these  are  all  that  I  have  as  a 
souvenir  ?  " 

"  Leonti !  Think  of  all  this  as  a  malady,  a  terrible 
misfortune,  and  don't  succumb  to  it.  You  are  not 
an  old  man,  and  have  a  long  life  before  you." 

"  My  life  is  over,  unless  she  returns  to  me,"  he 
whispered. 

"  What  !     You  could,  you  would  take  her  back  !  " 

"  You,  too,  Boris,  fail  to  understand  me  !  "  cried 
Leonti  in  despair,  as  he  thrust  his  hands  into  his  hair 


THE    PRECIPICE  191 

and  strode  up  and  down.  "  People  keep  on  saying  I 
am  ill,  they  offer  sympathy,  bring  a  doctor,  sit  all 
night  by  my  bedside,  and  yet  don't  guess  why  I  suffer 
so  wildly,  don't  even  guess  at  the  only  remedy  there  is 
for  me.  She  is  not  here,"  he  whispered  wildly,  seizing 
Raisky  by  the  shoulders  and  shaking  him  violently. 
"  She  is  not  here,  and  that  is  what  constitutes 
my  illness.  Besides,  I  am  not  ill,  I  am  dead.  Take 
me  to  her,  and  I  shall  rise  again.  And  you  ask  whether 
I  will  take  her  back  again  !  You,  a  novelist,  don't 
understand  simple  things  like  that  !  " 

"  I  did  not  know  that  you  loved  her  like  that," 
said  Raisky  tenderly.  "  You  used  to  laugh  and  say 
that  you  had  got  so  used  to  her  tliat  you  were  becoming 
faithless  to  your  Greeks  and  Romans." 

"  I  chattered,  I  boasted,"  laughed  Leonti  bitterly, 
"  and  was  without  understanding.  But  for  this  I 
never  should  have  understood.  I  thought  I  loved 
the  ancients,  while  m}'  whole  love  was  given  to  the 
living  woman.  Yes,  Boris,  I  loved  books  and  my 
gymnasium,  the  ancients  and  the  moderns,  my  scholars, 
and  you,  Boris  ;  I  loved  the  street,  this  hedge,  the 
service  tree  there,  only  through  my  love  for  her. 
Now,  nothing  of  all  this  matters.  I  knew  that  as  I 
lay  on  the  floor  reading  her  letter.  And  you  ask 
whether  I  would  receive  her.  God  in  Heaven  !  If 
she  came,  how  she  should  be  cherished  !  "  he  con- 
cluded, his  tears  flowing  once  more. 

"  Leonti,  I  come  to  you  with  a  request  from  Tatiana 
Markovna,  who  asks  you,"  he  went  on,  though  Leonti 
walked  ceaselessly  up  and  down,  dragging  his  slippers 
and  appeared  not  to  listen,  "  to  come  over  to  us. 
Here  you  will  die  of  misery." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Leonti,  shaking  his  head. 
"  She  is  a  saint.  But  how  can  a  desolate  man  cany 
his  sorrow  into  a  strange  house  ?  " 

"  Not  a  strange  house,  Leonti,  we  are  brothers,  and 
our  relation  is  closer  than  the  ties  of  blood." 

Leonti  lay  down  on  the  bed,  and  took  Raisky's 
hand. 

"  Pardon  my  egoism,"  he  said.     "  Later,  later,   I 


192  THE    PRECIPICE 

will  come  of  my  own  accord,  will  ask  permission  to 
look  after  your  library,  if  no  hope  is  left  me." 

"  Have  you  any  hope  ?  " 

"  What  !     Do  you  think  there  is  no  hope  ?  " 

Raisky,  who  did  not  wish  to  deprive  his  friend  of 
the  last  straw,  nor  to  stir  useless  hope  in  him,  hesitated, 
before  he  answered  after  a  pause  :  "  I  don't  know 
what  to  say  to  you  exactly,  Leonti.  I  know  so  little 
of  your  wife  that  I  cannot  judge  her  character." 

"  You  know  her,"  said  Leonti  in  a  dull  voice.  "  It 
was  you  who  directed  my  attention  to  the  Frenchman, 
but  then  I  did  not  understand  you,  because  nothing 
of  the  kind  had  entered  my  head.  But  if  he  leaves 
her,"  he  said,  with  a  gleam  of  hope  in  his  eyes,  "  she 
will  perhaps  remember  me." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Raisky.  "  To-morrow  I  will  come 
to  fetch  you.  Good-bye  for  the  present.  To-night 
I  will  either  come  myself  or  send  someone  who  will 
stay  with  you." 

Leonti  did  not  hear,  and  did  not  even  see  Raisky  go. 

When  he  reached  home,  Raisky  gave  his  aunt  an 
account  of  Leonti's  condition,  telling  her  that  there 
was  no  danger,  but  that  no  sympathy  would  help 
matters.  Yakob  was  sent  to  look  after  the  sick  man 
and  Tatiana  Markovna  did  not  forget  to  send  an 
abundant  supper,  with  tea,  rum,  wine  and  all  sorts 
of  other  things. 

"  What  are  these  things  for.  Grandmother  ?  "  asked 
Raisky.     "  He  doesn't  eat  anything." 

"  But  the  other  one,  if  he  returns  ?  " 

"  What  other  one  ?  " 

"  Who  but  Markushka  ?  He  will  want  something 
to  eat.     You  found  him  with  our  invalid." 

"  I  will  go  to  Mark,  Grann}^,  and  tell  him  what  you 
say." 

"  For  goodness'  sake  don't  do  that,  Borushka. 
Mark  will  laugh  at  me." 

"  No,  he  will  be  grateful  and  respectful,  for  he 
understands  you.     He  is  not  like  Niel  Andreevich." 

"  I  don't  want  his  gratitude  and  respect.  Let 
him  eat,  and  be  satisfied,  and  God  be  with  him.     He 


THE    PRECIPICE  193 

is   a    ruined   man.     Has   he   remembered   the  eidity 
roubles  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XXI 

Raisky  laughed  as  he  went  out  into  the  garden.  He 
looked  sadly  at  the  closed  shutters  of  the  old  house, 
and  stood  for  a  long  time  on  the  edge  of  the  precipice, 
looking  down  thoughtfully  into  the  depths  of  the 
thicket  and  the  trees  rustling  and  cracking  in  the 
wind.  Then  he  turned  to  look  at  the  long  avenues, 
here  forming  gloomy  corridors,  and  then  opening  out 
into  open  stately  spaces,  at  the  flower  gardens  now 
fading  under  the  approach  of  autumn,  at  the  kitchen 
garden,  and  at  the  distant  glimmer  of  the  rising  moon, 
and  at  the  stars.  He  looked  out  over  the  Volga, 
gleaming  like  steel  in  the  distance.  The  evening 
was  fresh  and  cool,  and  the  withered  leaves  were  falling 
with  a  gentle  rustle  around  him.  He  could  not  take 
his  eyes  from  the  river,  now  silvered  by  the  moon, 
which  separated  him  from  Vera.  She  had  gone  with- 
out leaving  a  word  for  him.  A  word  from  her  would 
have  brought  tenderness  and  would  have  drowned 
all  bitterness,  he  thought.  But  she  was  gone  without 
leaving  a  trace  or  any  kind  remembrance.  With  bent 
head  and  full  of  anxious  thought  he  made  his  way 
along  the  dark  avenues. 

Suddenly  delicate  fingers  seized  his  shoulders,  and 
he  heard  a  low  laugh. 

"  Vera !  "  he  cried,  seizing  her  hand  violently. 
"  You  here,  and  not  away  over  the  Volga  !  " 

"  Yes,  here,  not  over  there."  She  put  her  arm  in 
his  and  asked  him,  laughing,  whether  he  thought  she 
would  let  him  go  without  saying  good-bye. 

"  Witch  !  "  he  said,  not  knowing  whether  fear  or 
joy  was  uppermost.  "  I  was  this  very  moment  con- 
plaining  that  you  had  not  left  a  line  for  me,  and  now 
I  can't  understand,  as  everyone  in  the  house  told  rne 
you  had  gone  away  yesterday." 


194  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  And  you  believed  it."  she  said  laughing.  "  I  told 
them  to  say  so,  to  surprise  you.  They  were  hum- 
bugging. ...  To  go  away  without  two  words,"  she 
asked  triumphantly,  "  or  to  stay,  which  is  better  ?  " 

Her  gay  talk,  her  quick  gestures,  the  mockery  in 
her  voice,  all  these  things  seemed  unnatural,  and  he 
recognised  beneath  it  all  weariness,  strain,  an  effort 
to  conceal  the  collapse  of  her  strength.  When  they 
reached  the  end  of  the  avenue  he  tried  to  lead  her  to 
an  open  spot,  where  he  could  see  her  face 

"  Let  me  look  at  you  !  How  gay  and  merry  you 
are,  Vera  !  "  he  said  timidly. 

"  What  is  there  to  see?  "  she  interrupted 
impatiently,  and  tried  to  draw  him  into  the  shadow 
again.  He  felt  that  her  hands  were  trembling,  and  for 
the  moment  his  own  passion  was  stilled,  and  he  shared 
her  suffering. 

"  Why  do  you  look  at  me  like  that  ?  I  am  not 
crazy,"  she  said,  turning  her  face  away. 

He  was  stricken  with  horror.  The  insane  are 
always  assuring  everyone  of  their  sanity.  What  was 
wrong  with  Vera  ?  She  did  not  confide  in  him,  she 
would  not  speak  out,  she  was  determined  to  fight  her 
own  battles.  Who  could  support  and  shelter  her  ? 
An  inner  voice  told  him  that  Tatiana  Markovna  alone 
could  do  it. 

"  Vera,  you  are  ill,"  he  said  earnestly.  "  Give 
Grandmother  your  confidence." 

"  Silence  !  Not  a  word  of  Grandmother  !  Good- 
bye !  To-morrow  we  will  go  for  a  stroll,  do  some 
shopping,  go  down  by  the  river,  anything  you  like." 

"  I  will  go  away.  Vera,"  he  cried,  filled  with  inexpres- 
sible fear.  "  I  am  worn  out.  Why  do  you  deceive 
me  ?  Why  did  you  call  me  back  to  find  you  still 
here  ?     Was  it  to  mock  mv  sufferings  ?  " 

"  So  that  we  could  suffer  together,"  she  answered. 
"  Passion  is  beautiful,  as  you  yourself  have  said  ;  it 
is  life  itself.  You  have  taught  me  how  to  love,  have 
educated  passion  in  me,  and  now  you  may  admire 
the  result  of  yom"  labour,"  she  ended,  drawing  in  a 
(ieep  breath  of  the  cool  evening  air, 


THE    PRECIPICE  195 

"  I  warned  you,  Vera.  I  told  you  passion  was  a 
fierce  wolf." 

"  No,  worse,  it  is  a  tiger.  I  could  not  believe  what 
you  said,  but  I  do  now.  Do  you  know  the  picture  in 
the  old  house  which  represents  a  tiger  showing  his 
teeth  at  a  seated  Cupid  ?  I  never  understood  the 
picture,  which  seemed  meaningless,  but  now  I  under- 
stand it.  Passion  is  a  tiger,  lying  there  apparently 
so  peaceful  and  inviting,  until  he  begins  to  howl  and 
to  whet  his  teeth." 

Raisky  pursued  the  comparison  in  the  hope  that  he 
might  learn  the  name  of  Vera's  lover. 

"  Your  comparison  is  false.  Vera.  There  are  no 
tigers  in  our  Northern  climate.  I  am  nearer  the 
mark  when  I  compare  passion  to  a  wolf." 

"  You  are  right,"  she  said  with  a  nervous  laugh. 
"  A  real  wolf.  However  carefully  you  feed  him  he 
looks  always  to  the  woods.  You  are  all  wolves,  and 
he,  too,  is  a  wolf." 

"  Who  ?  "he  asked  in  an  expressionless  voice. 
"  Tushin  is  a  bear,  a  genuine  Russian  bear.     You 
may  lay  your  hand  on  his  shaggy  head,  and  sleep  ; 
your  rest  is  sure,  for  he  will  serve  you  all  his  life." 

"  Which  of  the  animals  am  I  ?  "  he  asked  gaily, 
noting  that  Tushin  was  not  the  man.  "  Don't  beat 
about  the  bush,  Vera,  you  may  say  I  am  an  ass." 

"  No,"  she  said  scornfully.  "  You  are  a  fox,  a 
nice,  cunning  fox,  with  a  gift  for  deception.  That's 
what  you  are.  Why  don't  you  say  something  ?  "  she 
went  on,  as  he  kept  an  embarrassed  silence. 

"  Vera,  there  are  weapons  to  be  used  against  wolves, 
for  me,  to  go  away  ;  for  you,  not  to  go  down  there," 
he  said,  pointing  to  the  precipice. 

"  Tell  me  how  to  prevent  myself  from  going  there. 
Teach  me,  since  you  are  my  mentor,  how  not  to  go. 
You  first  set  the  house  on  fire,  and  then  talk  of  leaving 
it.     You  sing  in  praise  of  passion,  and  then.  .  .  ." 

"  I  meant  another  kind  of  passion.  Where  both 
parties  to  it  are  honourable,  it  means  the  supreme 
happiness  in  life,  and  its  storms  are  full  of  the  glow 
of  life.  .  .  ." 


Tg6  THE    PRFXIPICE 

"  And  where  there  is  no  dishonour,  no  precipice 
yawns  ?  I  love,  and  am  loved,  yet  passion  has  me 
in  its  jaws.     Tell  me  what  I  should  do." 

"  Confess  all  to  Grandmother,"  whispered  Raisky, 
pale  with  terror,  "  or  permit  me  to  talk  to  her," 

"  To  shame  me  and  ruin  me  ?  Who  told  me  I  need 
not  obey  her  ?  " 

"  At  one  moment  you  are  on  the  point  of  telling 
your  secret,  at  another  you  hide  behind  it.  I  am 
in  the  dark,  and  feel  my  way  in  uncertainty.  How 
can  I,  when  I  do  not  know  the  whole  truth,  diagnose 
the  case  ?  " 

**  You  know  what  is  wrong  with  me  ?  Why  do 
you  say  you  are  in  the  dark.  Come,"  she  said,  leading 
him  into  the  moonlight.  "  See  what  is  wrong  with 
me." 

He  stood  transfixed  with  terror  and  pity.  Pale, 
haggard,  with  wild  eyes  and  tightly  pressed  lips,  this 
was  quite  another  Vera.  Strands  of  hair  were  loose 
from  beneath  her  hood,  and  fell  in  gipsy-like  confusion 
over  her  forehead  and  temples,  and  covered  her  eyes 
and  mouth  with  every  quick  movement  she  made. 
Her  shoulders  were  negligently  clad  in  a  satin  wrap 
trimmed  with  swansdown,  held  in  place  by  a  loosely 
tied  knot  of  silk. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  shaking  her  hair  out  of  her  eyes. 
"  What  has  happened  to  the  beauty  whose  praise  you 
sang  ?  " 

"  Vera,"  h6  said,  "  I  would  die  for  you.  Tell  me 
how  I  may  serve  yoii." 

"  Die  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Help  me  to  live.  Give 
me  that  beautiful  passion  which  sheds  its  glorious 
light  over  the  whole  of  life.  I  see  no  passion  but  this 
drowning  tiger  passion.  Give  me  back  at  least  my 
old  strength,  you,  who  talk  of  going  to  my  Grandmother 
to  place  her  and  me  on  the  same  bier.  It  is  too  late 
to  tell  me  to  go  no  more  to  the  precipice." 

She  sat  down  on  the  bench  and  looked  moodily 
straight  before  her, 

"  You  yourself.  Vera,  dreamed  of  freedom,  and 
you  prided  yourself  on  your  independence." 


THE    PRECIPICE  197 

"  My  head  burns.  Have  pity  on  your  sister  !  I 
am  ashamed  to  be  so  weak." 

"  What  is  it,  dear  Vera  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  Take  me  home,  help  me  to  mount  the 
steps.  I  am  afraid,  and  would  hke  to  lie  down. 
Pardon  me  for  having  disturbed  you  for  nothing, 
for  having  brought  you  here.  You  would  have  gone 
away  and  forgotten  me.  I  am  only  feverish.  Are 
you  angry  with  me  ?  " 

Too  dejected  to  reply,  he  gave  her  his  arm,  took 
her  as  far  as  her  room,  and  struck  a  light. 

"  Send  Marina  or  Masha  to  stay  in  my  room,  please. 
But  say  nothing  to  Grandmother,  lest  she  should  be 
alarmed  and  come  herself.  Why  are  you  looking  at 
me  so  strangely  ?  God  knows  what  I  have  been  saying 
to  you,  to  plague  you  and  to  avenge  myself  of  all 
my  humiliations.  Tell  Grandmother  that  I  have 
gone  to  bed  to  be  up  early  in  the  morning,  and  I  pray 
you  bless  me  in  your  thoughts,  do  you  hear  ? 

"  I  hear,"  he  said  absently,  as  he  pressed  her  hand 
and  went  out  in  search  of  Masha. 

He  looked  forward  with  anxiety  to  Vera's  awakening. 
He  seemed  to  have  forgotten  his  own  passion  since 
his  imagination  had  become  absorbed  in  the  contempla- 
tion of  her  suffering. 

"  Something  is  wrong  with  Vera,"  said  Tatiana 
Markovna,  shaking  her  grey  head  as  she  saw  how 
grimly  he  avoided  her  questioning  glance. 

"  What  can  it  be  ?  "  asked  Raisky  negligently, 
with  an  effort  to  assume  indifference. 

"  Something  is  wrong,  Borushka.  She  looks  so 
melancholy  and  is  so  silent,  and  often  seems  to  have 
tears  in  her  eyes.  I  have  spoken  to  the  doctor,  but  he 
only  talks  the  old  nonsense  about  nerves,"  she  said, 
relapsing  into  a  gloomy  silence. 

Raisky  looked  anxiously  for  Vera's  appearance  next 
morning.  She  came  at  last,  accompanied  by  the  maid, 
who  carried  a  warm  coat  and  her  hat  and  shoes. 
She  said  good  morning  to  her  aunt,  asked  for  coffee, 
ate  her  roll  with  appetite,  and  reminded  Raisky  that 
he  had  promised  to  go  shopping  with  her  in  the  town 


198  THE    PRECIPICE 

and  to  take  a  walk  in  the  park.  It  amazed  him  that 
she  should  be  once  more  transformed,  but  there  was 
a  certain  audacity  in  her  gestures  and  a  haste  in  her 
speech  which  seemed  forced  and  alien  from  her  usual 
manner  and  reminded  him  of  her  behaviour  the  day 
before. 

She  was  plainly  making  a  great  effort  to  conceal 
her  real  mood.  She  chatted  volubly  with  Paulina 
Karpovna,  who  had  turned  up  unexpectedly  and 
was  displaying  the  pattern  of  a  dress  intended  for 
Marfinka's  trousseau.  That  lady's  visit  was  really 
directed  towards  Raisky,  of  whose  return  she  had 
heard.  She  sought  in  vain  an  occasion  to  speak  with 
him  alone,  but  seized  a  moment  to  sit  down  beside 
him,  when  she  made  eyes  at  him  and  said  in  a  low 
voice  :  "  Je  comprends  ;  dites  tout,  du  courage." 

Raisky  wished  her  anywhere,  and  moved  away. 
Vera  meanwhile  put  on  her  coat  and  asked  him  to 
come  with  her.  Paulina  Karpovna  wished  to  accompany 
them,  but  Vera  declined  on  the  ground  that  they 
were  walking  and  had  far  to  go,  that  the  ground  was 
damp,  and  that  Paulina's  elegant  dress  with  a  long 
train  was  unsuited  for  the  expedition. 

"  I  want  to  have  you  this  whole  day  for  myself," 
she  said  to  Raisky  as  they  went  out  together,  "  indeed 
every  day  until  you  go." 

"  But,  Vera,  how  can  I  help  you  when  I  don't 
know  what  is  making  you  suffer.  I  only  see  that 
you  have  your  own  drama,  that  the  catastrophe  is 
approaching,  or  is  in  process.  What  is  it  ?  "he  asked 
anxiously,  as  she  shivered. 

"  I  don't  feel  well,  and  am  far  from  gay.  Autumn 
is  beginning.  Nature  grows  dark  and  sinister,  the 
birds  are  already  deserting  us,  and  my  mood,  too, 
is  autumnal.  Do  you  see  the  black  line  high  above 
the  Volga  ?  Those  are  the  cranes  in  flight.  My 
thoughts,  too,  fly  away  into  the  distance." 

She  realised  halfway  that  this  strange  explanation 
was  unconvincing,  and  only  pursued  it  because  she 
did  not  wish  to  tell  the  truth. 


THE    PRECIPICE  199 

"  I  wanted  to  ask  you,  Vera,  about  the  letters  you 
wrote  to  me." 

"  I  am  ill  and  weak  ;  you  saw  what  an  attack  I 
had  yesterday.  I  cannot  remember  just  now  all  that 
I  wrote." 

"  Another  time  then  !  "  he  sighed.  "  But  tell  me, 
Vera,  how  I  can  help  you.  Why  do  you  keep  me 
back,  and  why  do  you  want  to  spend  these  days  in 
my  society  ?  I  have  a  right  to  ask  this,  and  it  is 
your  duty  to  give  a  plain  answer  unless  you  want  me 
to  think  you  false." 

"  Don't  let  us  talk  of  it  now." 

"  No,"  he  cried  angrily.  "  You  play  with  me  as 
a  cat  does  with  a  mouse.  I  will  endure  it  no  longer. 
You  can  either  reveal  your  own  secrets  or  keep  them 
as  you  please,  but  in  so  far  as  it  touches  me,  I  demand 
an  immediate  answer.   What  is  my  part  in  this  drama  ? ' ' 

"  Do  not  be  angry  !  I  did  not  keep  you  back  to 
wound  you.  But  don't  talk  about  it,  don't  agitate 
me  so  that  T  have  another  attack  like  yesterday's. 
You  see  that  I  can  hardly  stand.  I  don't  want  mj^ 
weakness  to  be  seen  at  home.  Defend  me  from 
myself.  Come  to  me  at  dusk,  about  six,  and  I  will 
tell  you  why  I  detained  you." 

"  Pardon  me.  Vera.  I  am  not  myself  either,"  he 
said,  struck  by  her  suffering.  "  I  don't  know  what 
lies  on  your  heart,  and  I  will  not  ask.  I  will  come 
later  to  fetch  you." 

"  I  will  tell  you  if  I  have  the  strength,"  she  said. 

They  went  into  the  shops,  where  Vera  made  pur- 
chases for  herself  and  Marfinka,  she  talked  eagerly  to 
the  acquaintances  they  met,  and  even  visited  a  poor 
godchild,  for  whom  she  took  gifts.  She  assented 
readily  to  Raisky's  suggestion  that  they  should  visit 
Koslov. 

When  they  reached  the  house,  Mark  walked  out  of 
the  door.  He  was  plainly  startled,  made  no  answer 
to  Raisky's  inquiry  after  Leonti's  health,  and  walked 
quickly  away.  Vera  was  still  more  disconcerted 
but  pulled  herself  together,  and  followed  Raisky  into 
the  house. 


aoo  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  him  ?  "  asked  Raisky. 
"  He  did  not  answer  a  word,  but  simply  bolted.  You 
were  frightened,  too,  Vera.  Is  it  Mark  who  signalises 
his  presence  at  the  foot  of  the  precipice  by  a  shot  ? 
I  have  seen  him  wandering  round  with  a  gun,"  he 
said  joking. 

She  answered  in  the  same  tone  :  "  Of  course,  Cousin," 
but  she  did  not  look  at  him. 

No,  thought  Raisky  to  himself,  she  could  not  have 
taken  for  her  idol  a  wandering,  ragged  gipsy  like  that. 
Then  he  wondered  whether  the  possibility  could  be 
entirely  excluded,  since  passion  wanders  where  he 
lists,  and  not  in  obedience  to  the  convictions  and 
dictates  of  man.  He  is  invincible,  and  master  of 
his  own  inexplicable  moods.  But  Vera  had  never 
had  any  opportunity  of  meeting  Mark,  he  concluded, 
and  was  merely  afraid  of  him  as  every  one  else  was. 

Leonti's  condition  was  unchanged.  He  wandered 
about  like  a  drunken  man,  silent  and  listening  for  the 
noise  of  any  carriage  in  the  street,  when  he  would 
rush  to  the  window  to  look  if  it  bore  his  fugitive  wife. 

He  would  come  to  them  in  a  few  weeks,  he  said, 
after  Marfinka's  wedding,  as  Vera  suggested.  Then 
he  became  aware  of  Vera's  presence. 

"  Vera  Vassilievna  !  "  he  cried  in  surprise,  staring 
at  her  as  he  addressed  Raisky.  "  Do  you  know, 
Boris  Pavlovich,  who  else  has  read  your  books  and 
helped  me  to  arrange  them  ?  " 

"  Who  has  been  reading  my  books  ?  "  asked  Raisky. 

But  Leonti  had  been  distracted  by  the  sound  of 
a  passing  carriage  and  did  not  hear  the  question.  Vera 
whispered  to  Raisky  that  they  should  go. 

"  I  wanted  to  say  something,  Boris  Pavlovich," 
said  Leonti  thoughtfully,  raising  his  head,  "  but  I 
can't  remember  what." 

"  You  said  some  one  else  had  been  reading  my 
books." 

Leonti  pointed  to  Vera,  who  was  looking  out  of 
the  window,  but  who  now  pulled  Raisky's  sleeve 
"  Come  !  "  she  said  and  they  left  the  house. 

When  they  reached  home  Vera  made   over  some 


THE    PRECIPICE  201 

of  her  purchases  to  her  aunt,  and  had  others  taken 
to  her  room.  She  asked  Raisky  to  go  out  with  her 
again  in  the  park  and  down  by  the  Volga. 

"  Why  are  you  tiring  yourself  out,  Vera  ?  "  he 
asked,  as  they  went.     "  You  are  weak." 

"  Air,  I  must  have  air  !  "  she  exclaimed,  turning 
her  face  to  the  wind. 

She  is  collecting  all  her  strength,  he  thought,  as 
they  entered  the  room  where  the  family  was  waiting 
for  them  for  dinner.  In  the  afternoon  he  slept  for 
weariness,  and  onl}^  awoke  at  twilight,  when  six 
o'clock  had  already  struck.  He  went  to  find  Vera, 
but  Marina  told  him  she  had  gone  to  vespers,  she  did 
not  know  whether  in  the  village  church  on  the  hill 
or  in  the  church  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town.  He  went 
to  the  town  church  first,  and  after  studying  the  faces 
of  all  the  old  women  assembled  there,  he  climbed 
the  hill  to  the  village  church.  Old  people  stood  in  the 
corners  and  by  the  door,  and  by  a  pillar  in  a  dark 
corner  knelt  Vera,  with  a  veil  wrapped  round  her 
bowed  head.  He  took  his  stand  near  her,  behind 
another  pillar,  and,  engrossed  in  his  thoughts  of  her 
state  of  mind,  watched  her  intently  as  she  prayed 
motionless,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  cross.  He  went 
sadly  into  the  porch  to  wait  for  her,  and  there  she  joined 
him,  putting  her  hand  in  his  arm  without  a  word. 

As  they  crossed  the  big  meadow  into  the  park  he 
thought  of  nothing  but  the  promised  explanation. 
His  own  intense  desire  to  be  freed  from  his  miserable 
uncertainty  weighed  with  him  less  than  his  dut3%  as  he 
conceived  it,  of  shielding  her,  of  illuminating  her  path 
with  his  experience,  and  of  lending  his  undivided 
strength  to  keep  her  from  overstepping  her  moral 
precipice.  Perhaps  it  was  merely  a  remnant  of  pride 
that  prevented  her  from  telling  him  why  she  had 
summoned  him  and  detained  him. 

He  could  not,  and,  even  if  he  could,  he  had  not  the 
right  to  share  his  apprehensions  with  anyone  else. 
Even  if  he  might  confide  in  Tatiana  I^.Jarkovna,  if  he 
spoke  to  her  of  his  suspicion  and  his  surmises,  he  was 
not  clear  that  it  would  help  matters,  for  he  feared 


202  THE    PRECIPICE 

that  their  aunt's  practical,  but  old-fashioned  wisdom 
would  be  shattered  on  Vera's  obstinacy.  Vera 
possessed  the  bolder  mind,  the  quicker  will.  She  was 
level  with  contemporary  thought,  and  towered  above 
the  society  in  which  she  moved.  She  must  have 
derived  her  ideas  and  her  knowledge  from  some  source 
accessible  to  her  alone.  Though  she  took  pains  to 
conceal  her  knowledge,  it  was  betrayed  by  a  chance 
word,  by  the  mention  of  a  name  or  an  authority  in 
this  or  that  sphere  of  learning,  and  it  was  betrayed 
also  in  her  speech  ;  in  the  remarkable  aptness  of  the 
words  in  which  she  clothed  her  thoughts  and  feelings. 
In  this  matter  she  held  so  great  an  advantage  over 
Tatiana  Markovna  that  the  old  lady's  efforts  in 
argument  were  more  likely  to  be  disastrous  than  not, 

Undoubtedly  Tatiana  Markovna  was  a  wise  woman 
with  a  correct  judgment  of  the  general  phenomena  of 
life.  She  was  a  famous  housewife,  ruling  her  little 
tsardom  magnificently  ;  she  knew  the  ways,  the  vices 
and  the  virtues  of  mankind  as  they  are  set  out  in  the 
Ten  Commandments  and  the  Gospels,  but  she  knew 
nothing  of  the  life  where  the  passions  rage  and  steep 
everything  in  their  colours.  And  even  if  she  had 
known  such  a  world  in  her  youth  it  must  have  been 
passion  divorced  from  experience,  an  unshared 
passion,  or  one  stifled  in  its  development,  not  a  stormy 
drama  of  love,  but  rather  a  lyric  tenderness  which 
unfolded  and  perished  without  leaving  a  trace  on  her 
pure  life.  How  could  she  lend  a  rescuing  hand  to 
snatch  Vera  from  the  precipice,  she  who  had  no  faith 
in  passion,  but  had  merely  sought  to  understand 
facts  ? 

The  shots  in  the  depths  of  the  precipice,  and  Vera's 
expeditions  were  indeed  facts,  against  which  Tatiana 
Markovna  might  be  able  to  adopt  measures.  She 
might  double  the  watch  kept  on  the  property,  set  men 
to  watch  for  the  lover,  while  Vera,  shut  up  in  the 
house,  endured  humiliation  and  a  fresh  kind  of 
suffering. 

Vera  would  not  endure  any  such  rough  constraint, 
and  would  make  her  escape,  just  as  she  had  fled  across 


THE    PRECIPICE  203 

the  Volga  from  Raisky.  These  would  be,  in  fact, 
no  means  at  all,  for  she  had  outgrown  Tatiana 
Markovna's  circle  of  experience  and  morals.  No, 
authority  might  serve  with  Marfinka,  but  not  with 
the  clear-headed,  independent  Vera. 

Such  were  Raisky's  thoughts  as  he  walked  silently 
by  Vera's  side,  no  longer  desiring  full  knowledge  for  his 
own  sake,  but  for  her  salvation.  Perhaps,  he  thought, 
he  would  best  gain  his  end  by  indirect  efforts  to  make 
her  betray  herself. 

"  Leonti  said,"  he  began,  "  that  you  have  been 
reading  books  out  of  my  library.  Did  you  read  them 
with  him  ?  " 

"  Sometimes  he  told  me  of  the  contents  of  certain 
books  ;  others  I  read  with  the  priest,  Natasha's 
husband." 

"  What  books  did  you  read  with  the  priest  ?  " 
"  For  the  moment  I  don't  remember,  but  he  read 
the  writings  of  the  Fathers,  for  instance,  and  explained 
them  to  Natasha  and  me,  to  my  great  advantage. 
We  also  read  with  him  Voltaire  and  Spinoza.  Why 
do  you  laugh  ?  "  she  asked,  looking  at  Raisky. 

"  There  seems  a  remarkable  gap  between  the 
Fathers  and  Spinoza  and  Voltaire.  The  Encyclopae- 
dists are  also  included  in  my  library.  Did  you  read 
them  ?  " 

"  Nikolai  Ivanovich  read  some  to  us,  and  talked 
about  others." 

"  Did   you  also  occupy  yom^selves  with  Feuerbach, 
with  the  Socialists  and  the  Materialists  ?  " 

"  Yes,    Natasha's  husband  asked  us   to  copy  out 
passages,  which  he  indicated  by  pencil  marks." 
"  What  was  his  object  in  this  ?  " 
"  I  think  he  was  preparing  to  publish  a  refutation." 
"  Where  did  you  obtain  the  newer  books  that  are 
not    in    my    library  ?      Not  the  exile,"  he  suggested 
as  she  gave  no  answer,  "  who  lives  here  under  police 
supervision,  the  same  man  about  whom  you  wrote  to 
me  ?     But  you  are  not  listening." 

"  Yes,  I  am.     Who  gave  me  the  books  ?      Some- 
time' one  person,  sometimes  another  here  in  the  town." 


204  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  Volokov  borrowed  these  books." 

"  Perhaps  so,  I  had  them  from  professors." 

The  thought  flashed  through  Raisky's  head  that 
there  might  be  other  professors  of  the  same  kind  as 
Monsieur  Charles.  But  he  merely  asked  what  were 
the  views  of  Nikolai  Ivanovich  on  Spinoza  and 
these  other  writers. 

"  He  says,"  replied  Vera,  "  that  these  writings  are 
the  efforts  of  bold  minds  to  evade  the  truth  ;  they 
have  beaten  out  for  themselves  side  paths  which  must 
in  the  end  unite  with  the  mam  road.  He  says  too, 
that  all  these  attempts  serve  the  cause  of  truth,  in 
that  the  truth  shines  out  with  greater  splendour  in 
the  end." 

"  But  he  does  not  tell  you  where  truth  lies  ?  '* 

By  way  of  answer  she  pointed  to  the  little  chapel 
now  in  sight. 

"  And  you  think  he  is  right  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think,  I  believe.  And  don't  you  also 
believe   he   is   right. 

He  agreed,  and  she  asked  him  why,  that  being  so, 
he  had  asked  her. 

"  I  wanted,"  he  said,  "  to  know  your  opinion." 

"  But  you  have  often  seen  me  at  prayer,"  said 
Vera. 

"  Yes,  but  I  do  not  overhear  your  prayers.  Do  you 
pray  for  the  alleviation  of  the  restless  sorrow  that 
afflicts  your  mind  ?  " 

They  had  reached  the  chapel,  and  Vera  stood  still 
for  a  moment.  She  did  not  appear  to  have  heard  his 
question,  and  she  answered  only  with  a  deep  sigh. 
It  was  growing  dark  as  they  retraced  their  steps, 
Vera's  growing  slower  and  more  uncertain  as  they 
approached  the  old  house,  where  she  stood  still  and 
glanced  in  the  direction  of  the  precipice, 

"  To  still  the  storm  I  must  not  go  near  the  precipice, 
you  say — I  beg  of  you  to  stand  by  me,  for  I  am  sick  and 
helpless." 

"  Will  not  Grandmother  know  better  how  to  help 
you.  Vera  ?  Confide  in  her,  a  woman,  who  will 
perhaps  understand  your  pain." 


THE    PRECIPICE  205 

She  shook  her  head.  "  I  will  tell  you,  Grandmother 
and  you,  but  not  now  ;  now  I  cannot.  And  yet  I  beg 
of  you  not  to  leave  me,  not  to  allow  me  out  of  your  sight. 
If  a  shot  summons  me,  keep  me  away  from  the  precipice, 
and,  if  necessary,  hold  me  back  by  force.  Things  are 
as  bad  as  that  with  me.  That  is  all  you  can  do  for 
me.  That  is  why  I  asked  you  not  to  go  away,  because 
I  felt  that  my  strength  is  failing,  because  except  you 
I  have  no  one  to  help  me,  for  Grandmother  would  not 
understand.     Forgive  me." 

"  You  did  right.  Vera,"  he  replied,  deeply  moved. 
"  Depend  on  me.  I  am  willing  to  stay  here  for  ever, 
if  that  will  bring  you  peace." 

"  No,  in  a  week's  time  the  shots  will  cease." 

She  dried  her  eyes,  and  pressed  his  hand  ;  then  with 
slow,  uneven  steps,  supporting  herself  by  the  balustrade 
she  passed  up  the  steps  and  into  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

Two  days  had  passed,  and  Raisky  had  had  small 
opportunity  of  seeing  Vera  alone,  though  she  came  to 
dinner  and  to  tea,  and  spoke  of  ordinary  things.  Raisky 
turned  once  more  to  his  novel,  or  rather  to  the  plan 
of  it.  He  visited  Leonti,  and  did  not  neglect  the 
Governor  and  other  friends.  But  in  order  to  keep 
watch  on  Vera  he  wandered  about  the  park  and  the 
garden.  Two  days  were  now  gone,  he  thought,  since 
he  sat  on  the  bench  by  the  precipice,  but  there  were 
still  five  days  of  danger.  Marfinka's  birthday  lay  two 
days'  ahead,  and  on  that  day  Vera  would  hardly  leave 
the  familj'  circle.  On  the  next  Marfinka  was  to  go 
with  her  fiance  and  his  mother  to  Kolchino,  and  Vera 
would  not  be  likely  to  leave  Tatiana  Markovna  alone. 
By  that  time  the  week  would  be  over  and  the  threaten- 
ing clouds  dispersed. 

After  dinner  Vera  asked  him  to  come  over  to  her 
in  the  evening,  as  she  wished  him  to  undertake  a 


2o6  THE    PRECIPICE 

commission  for  her.  When  he  arrived  she  suggested 
a  walk,  and,  as  she  chose  the  direction  of  the  fields 
he  realised  that  she  wished  to  go  to  the  chapel,  and 
took  the  field  path  accordingly. 

As  she  crossed  the  threshold,  she  looked  up  at  the 
thoughtful  face  of  the  Christ. 

"  You  have  sought  more  powerful  aid  than  mine," 
said  Raisk3^  "  Moreover,  you  wiU  not  now  go  there 
without  me." 

She  nodded  in  assent.  She  seemed  to  be  seeking 
strength,  sympathy  and  support  from  the  glance  of 
the  Crucified,  but  His  eyes  kept  their  expression  of 
quiet  thought  and  detachment. 

\Mien  she  turned  her  eyes  from  the  picture  she 
reiterated,  "  I  \rill  not  go."  Raiskv  read  on  her  face 
neither  prayer  nor  desire  ;  it  wore  an  expression  of 
weariness,  indifference  and  submission. 

He  suggested  that  they  should  return,  and 
reminded  her  that  she  had  a  commission  for  him. 

"  Will  you  take  the  bouquet-holder  that  I  chose 
the  other  week  for  Marfinka's  birthday  to  the  gold- 
smith ?  "  she  said,  handing  him  her  purse.  "  I  gave 
him  some  pearls  to  set  in  it,  and  her  name  should  be 
engraved.  And  could  you  be  up  as  early  as  eight 
o'clock  on  her  birthday  ? 

"  Of  course.  If  necessar\',  I  can  stay  up  all  night  !  " 

"  I  have  already  spoken  to  the  gardener,  who  owns 
the  big  orangery.  Would  you  choose  me  a  nice 
bouquet  and  send  it  to  me.  I  have  confidence  in  your 
taste." 

"  Your  confidence  in  me  makes  progress.  Vera," 
he  laughed.  "  You  already  trust  my  taste  and 
my  honour." 

"  I  v.ould  have  seen  to  all  this  myself,"  she  went  on, 
"  but  I  have  not  the  strength." 

Next  day  Raisky  took  the  bouquet  holder,  and 
discussed  the  arrangement  of  the  flowers  \\"ith  the 
gardener.  He  himself  bought  for  Marfinka  an  elegant 
watch  and  chain,  with  two  hundred  roubles  which  he 
borrowed  from  Tiet  Xikonich,  for  Tatiana  Markovna 
would  not  have  given  him  so  much  moneys  for  the 


THE    PRECIPICE  207 

purpose,  and  would  have  betrayed  the  secret.  In  Tiet 
Nikonich's  room  he  found  a  dressing  table  decked 
with  muslin  and  lace,  with  a  mirror  encased  in  a  china 
frame  of  flowers  and  Cupids,  a  beautiful  specimen  of 
Sevres  work. 

"  Where  did  you  get  this  treasure?  "  cried  Raisky, 
who  could  not  take  his  eyes  from  the  thing.  "  What 
a  lovely  piece  !  " 

"It  is  my  gift  for  Marfa  Vassilievna,"  said  Tiet 
Nikonich  with  his  kind  smile.  "  I  am  glad  it  pleases 
you,  for  you  are  a  connoisseur.  Your  liking  for  it 
assures  me  that  the  dear  birthday  child  will  appreciate 
it  as  a  wedding  gift.  She  is  a  lovely  girl,  just  like 
these  roses.  The  Cupids  will  smile  when  they  see 
her  charming  face  in  the  mirror.  Please  don't  tell 
Tatiana  Markovna  of  my  secret." 

"  This  beautiful  piece  must  have  cost  over  two 
thousand  roubles,  and  you  cannot  possibly  have 
bought  it  here." 

"  My  Grandfather  gave  five  thousand  roubles  for  it, 
and  it  was  part  of  my  Mother's  house-furnishing  and 
until  now  it  stood  in  her  bedroom,  left  untouched  in 
my  birth-place.  I  had  it  brought  here  last  month, 
and  to  make  sure  it  should  not  be  broken,  six  men 
carried  it  in  alternate  shifts  for  the  whole  hundred  and 
fifty  versts.  I  had  a  new  muslin  cover  made,  but  the 
lace  is  old  ;  you  will  notice  how  yellow  it  is.  Ladies 
like  these  things,  although  they  don't  matter  to  us." 

"  What  will  Grandmother  say  ? 

"  There  will  be  a  storm,  t  do  feel  rather  uneasy 
about  it,  but  perhaps  she  will  forgive  me.  I  may 
tell  you,  Boris  Pavlovich,  that  I  love  both  the  girls, 
as  if  they  were  my  own  daughters.  I  held  them  on 
my  knee  as  babies,  and  with  Tatiana  Markovna  gave 
them  their  first  lessons.  I  tell  you  in  confidence  that 
I  have  also  arranged  a  wedding  present  for  Vera 
VassiHevna  which  I  hope  she  will  like  when  the  time 
comes."  He  showed  Raisky  a  magnificent  antique  silver 
dinner  service  of  fine  workmanship  for  twelve  persons. 
"  I  may  confess  to  you,  as  you  are  her  cousin, 
that  in  agreement  with  Tatiana  Markovna  I  have  a 


2o8  THE    PRECIPICE 

splendid  and  a  rich  marriage  in  view  for  her,  for  whom 
nothing  can  be  too  good.  The  finest  paHie  in  this 
neighbourhood,"  he  said  in  a  confidential  tone,  "  is 
Ivan  Ivanovich  Tushin,  who  is  absolutely  devoted 
to  her,  as  he  well  may  be." 

Raisky  repressed  a  sigh  and  went  home  where  he 
found  Vikentev  and  his  mother,  who  had  arrived  for 
Marfinka's  birthday,  with  Paulina  Karpovna  and  other 
guests  from  the  town,  who  stayed  until  nearly  seven 
o'clock.  Tatiana  Markovna  and  Marfa  Egorovna 
carried  on  an  interminable  conversation  about  Mar- 
finka's trousseau  and  house  furnishing.  The  lovers 
went  into  the  garden,  and  from  there  to  the  village. 
Vikentev  carrying  a  parcel  which  he  threw  in  the  air 
and  caught  again  as  he  walked.  Marfinka  entered 
every  house,  said  good-bye  to  the  women,  and  caressed 
the  children.  In  two  cases  she  washed  the  children's 
faces,  she  distributed  calico  for  shirts  and  dresses, 
and  told  two  elder  children  to  whom  she  presented 
shoes  that  it  was  time  they  gave  up  paddling  in  the 
puddles. 

"  God  reward  you,  our  lovely  mistress.  Angel  of 
God  !  "  cried  the  women  in  every  yard  as  she  bade 
them  farewell  for  a  fortnight. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

In  the  evening  the  house  was  aglow  with  light.  Tatiana 
Markovna  could  not  do  enough  in  honour  of  her 
guest  and  future  connexion.  She  had  a  great  bed 
put  up  in  the  guest-chamber,  that  nearly  reached  to 
the  ceiling  and  resembled  a  catafalque.  Marfinka 
and  Vikentev  gave  full  rein  to  their  gay  humour, 
as  they  played  and  sang.  Only  Raisky's  windows 
were  dark.  He  had  gone  out  immediately  after 
dinner  and  had  not  returned  to  tea. 

The  moon  illuminated  the  new  house    but  left  the 
old  house  in  shadow,     The^e  was  bustle  in  the  yard, 


THE    PRECIPICE  209 

in  the  kitchen,  and  in  the  servants'  rooms,  where  Marfa 
Egorovna's  coachman  and  servants  were  being  enter- 
tained. 

From  seven  o'clock  onwards  Vera  had  sat  idle  in 
the  dusk  by  the  feeble  light  of  a  candle,  her  head 
supported  on  her  hand,  leaning  over  the  table,  while 
with  her  other  hand  she  turned  over  the  leaves  of  a 
book  at  which  she  hardly  glanced.  She  was  protected 
from  the  cold  autumn  air  from  the  open  window, 
by  a  big  white  woollen  shawl  thrown  round  her 
shoulders.  She  stood  up  after  a  time,  laid  the  book 
on  the  table,  and  went  to  the  window.  She  looked 
towards  the  sky,  and  then  at  the  gaily-lighted  house 
opposite.  She  shivered,  and  was  about  to  shut  the 
window  when  the  report  of  a  gun  rolled  up  from  the 
park  through  the  quiet  dusk. 

She  shuddered,  and  seemed  to  have  lost  the  use  of 
her  limbs,  then  sank  into  a  chair  and  bowed  her 
head.  When  she  rose  and  looked  wildly  round,  her 
face  had  changed.  Sheer  fright  and  distress  looked 
from  her  eyes.  Again  and  again  she  passed  her  hand 
over  her  forehead,  and  sat  down  at  the  table,  only  to 
jump  up  again.  She  tore  the  shawl  from  her  shoulders 
and  threw  it  on  the  bed  ;  then  with  nervous  haste 
she  opened  and  shut  the  cupboard  ;  she  looked  on 
the  divan,  on  the  chairs,  for  something  she  apparently 
could  not  find,  and  then  collapsed  wearily  on  her 
chair. 

On  the  back  of  the  chair  hung  a  wrap,  a  gift  from 
Tiet  Nikonich.  She  seized  it  and  threw  it  over  her 
head,  rushed  to  the  wardrobe,  hunted  in  it  with 
feverish  haste,  taking  out  first  one  coat,  then  another, 
until  she  had  nearly  emptied  the  cupboard  and  dresses 
and  cloaks  lay  in  a  heap  on  the  floor.  At  last  she 
found  something  warm  and  dark,  put  out  the  light, 
and  went  noiselessly  down  the  steps  into  the  open. 
She  crossed  the  yard,  hidden  in  the  shadows,  and 
took  her  way  along  the  dark  avenue.  She  did  not 
walk,  she  flew  ;  and  when  she  crossed  the  open  light 
patches  her  shadow  was  hardly  visible  for  a  moment, 
as  if  the  moon  had  not  time  to  catch  the  fljnng  figure. 


2IO  THE    PRECIPICE 

When  she  reached  the  end  of  the  avenue,  by  the 
ditch  which  divided  the  garden  from  the  park,  she 
stopped  a  moment  to  get  her  breath.  Then  she 
crossed  the  park,  hurried  through  the  bushes,  past 
her  favourite  bench,  and  reached  the  precipice.  She 
picked  up  her  skirts  for  the  descent,  when  suddenly, 
as  if  he  had  risen  out  of  the  ground,  Raisky  stood 
between  her  and  her  goal. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Vera  ?  " 
There  was  no  answer. 

"  Go  back,"  he  said,  offering  his  hand,  but  she 
tried  to  push  past  him. 

"  Vera,  where  are  you  going  ?  " 
"It  is  for  the  last  time."  she  said  in  a  pleading, 
shamed  whisper.     "  I  must  say  good-b3^e.  -  Make  way 
for  me,  Cousin  !     I  will  return  in  a  moment.     Wait 
for  me  here,  on  this  bench." 

Without  replying,  he  took  her  firmly  by  the  hand, 
and  she  struggled  in  vain  to  free  herself. 
"  Let  me  go  !     You  are  hurting  me  !  " 
But   he  did  not  give  way,  and  the  struggle  pro- 
ceeded. 

"  You  will  not  hold  me  by  force,"  she  cried,  and 
with  unnatural  strength  freed  herself,  and  sought  to 
dash  past  him. 

But  he  put  his  arm  round  her  waist,  took  her  to 
the  bench,  and  sat  down  beside  her. 
"  How  rough  and  rude  !  "  she  cried. 
"  I  cannot  hold  you  back  by  force.  Vera.     I  may 
be  saving  you  from  ruin." 

"  Can  I  be  ruined  against  my  own  will  ?  " 
''  It  is  against  your  will ;  yet  you  go  to  your  ruin." 
"  There  is  no  question  of  ruin.     We  must  see  one 
another  again  in  order  to  separate." 

"It  is  not  necessary  to  see  one  another  in  order 
to  separate." 

"  I  must,  and  will.     An  hour  or  a  day  later,  it  is 
all  the  same.     You  may  call  the  servants,  the  whole 
town,  a  file  of  soldiers,  but  no  power  will  keep  me 
back." 
A  second  shot  resounded. 


THE    PRECIPICE  211 

She  pulled  herself  up,  but  was  pressed  down  on  the 
bench  with  the  weight  of  Raisky's  hands.  She  shook 
her  head  wildly  in  powerless  rage. 

"  What  reward  do  you  hope  from  me  for  this 
virtuous  deed  ?  "  she  hissed. 

He  said  nothing,  but  kept  a  watchful  eye  on  her 
movements.  After  a  time  she  besought  him  gently  : 
"  Let  me  go,  Cousin,"  but  he  refused. 

"  Cousin,"  she  said,  laying  her  hand  gently  on  his 
shoulder.  "  Imagine  that  you  sat  upon  hot  coals, 
and  were  dying  every  minute  of  terror,  and  of  wild 
impatience,  that  happiness  rose  before  you,  stretching 
out  enticing  arms,  only  to  vanish,  that  your  whole 
being  rose  to  meet  it  ;  imagine  that  you  saw  before 
you  a  last  hope,  a  last  glimmer.  That  is  how  it  is 
with  me  at  this  moment.  The  moment  will  be  lost, 
and  with  it  everything  else." 

"  Think,  Vera,  if  in  the  hot  thirst  of  fever  you 
ask  for  ice,  it  is  denied  you.  In  your  soberer  moments 
yesterday  you  pointed  out  to  me  the  practical  means 
of  rescue,  you  said  I  was  not  to  let  you  go,  and  I  will 
not." 

She  fell  on  her  knees  before  him,  and  wrung  her 
hands. 

"  I  should  curse  you  my  whole  life  long  for  your 
violence.  Give  way.  Perhaps  it  is  my  destiny  that 
calls  me." 

"  I  was  a  witness  yesterday.  Vera,  of  where  you 
seek  your  fate.  You  believe  in  a  Providence,  and 
there  is  no  other  destiny." 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  submissively.  "  I  do  believe. 
There  before  the  sacred  picture  I  sought  for  a  spark 
to  lighten  my  path,  but  in  vain.  What  shall  I  do  ?  " 
she  said,  rising. 

"  Do  not  go,  Vera." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  my  destiny  that  sends  me  there,  there 
where  my  presence  may  be  needed.  Don't  try  any 
longer  to  keep  me,  for  I  have  made  up  my  mind. 
My  weakness  in  gone,  and  I  have  recovered  control 
of  myself  and  feel  I  am  strong.  It  is  not  my  destiny 
alone,  but  the  destiny  of  another  human  being  that 


212  THE    PRECIPICE 

is  to  be  decided  down  there.  Between  me  and  him 
you  are  digging  an  abyss,  and  the  responsibiUty  will 
rest  upon  you.  I  shall  never  be  consoled,  and  shall 
accuse  you  of  having  destroyed  our  happiness.  Do 
not  hold  me  back.  You  can  only  do  it  out  of  egoism, 
out  of  jealousy.  You  lied  when  you  spoke  to  me  of 
freedom." 

"  I  hear  the  voice  of  passion,  Vera,  with  all  its 
sophistry  and  its  deviations.  You  are  practising  the 
arts  of  a  Jesuit.  Remember  that  you  yourself  bade 
me,  only  yesterday,  not  to  leave  you.  Will  you 
curse  me  for  not  yielding  to  you  ?  On  whom  does 
the  responsibility  rest  ?     Tell  me  who  the  man  is  ?  " 

"  If  I  tell  you  will  you  promise  not  to  keep  me 
back  ?  "  she  said  quickly. 

"  I  don't  know.     Perhaps." 

"  Give  me  your  word  not  to  keep  me  any  longer, 
and  I  give  the  name." 

Another  shot  rang  out. 

She  sprang  to  one  side,  before  he  had  time  to  take 
her  by  the  hand. 

"  Go  to  Grandmother,"  he  commanded,  adding 
gently,  "  Tell  her  your  trouble." 

"  For  Christ's  sake  let  me  go.  I  ask  for  alms 
like  a  beggar.  I  must  be  free  !  I  take  him  to  whom 
I  prayed  yesterday  to  witness  that  I  am  going  for 
the  last  time.  Do  you  hear  ?  I  will  not  break  my 
oath.  Wait  here  for  me.  I  will  return  immediatel}^ 
will  only  say  farewell  to  the  '  Wolf,'  will  hear  a  word 
from  him,  and  perhaps  he  will  yield  !  "  She  rushed 
forward,  fell  to  the  ground  in  her  haste,  and  tried  in 
vain  to  rise.  Torn  by  an  unutterable  pity,  Raisky 
took  no  heed  of  his  own  suffering,  but  raised  her  in  his 
arms  and  bore  her  down  the  precipice. 

"  The  path  is  so  steep  here  that  you  would  fall 
again,"  he  whispered.  Presently  he  set  her  down  on 
the  path,  and  she  stooped  to  kiss  his  hand. 

"  You  are  generous,  Cousin.  Vera  will  not  for- 
get." 

With  that  she  hurried  into  the  thicket,  jubilant  as 
a  bird  set  free  from  his  cage. 


THE    PRECIPICE  213 

Raisky  heard  the  rustle  of  the  bushes  as  she  pushed 
them  aside,  and  the  crackle  of  the  dr}^  twigs. 

In  the  half-ruined  arbour  waited  Mark,  with  gun 
and  cap  laid  upon  the  table.  He  walked  up  and 
down  on  the  shaky  floor,  and  whenever  he  trod  on 
one  end  of  a  board  the  other  rose  in  the  air,  and  then 
fell  clattering  back  again. 

"  The  devil's  music  !  "  he  murmured  angrily,  sat 
down  on  a  bench  near  the  table,  and  pushed  his 
hands  through  his  thick  hair.  He  smoked  one  cigarette 
after  another,  the  burning  match  lighting  up  his 
pale,  agitated  face  for  a  moment.  After  each  shot 
he  listened  for  a  few  minutes,  went  out  on  the  steps, 
and  looked  out  into  the  bushes.  When  he  returned 
he  walked  up  and  down,  raising  the  "  devil's  music  " 
once  more,  threw  himself  on  the  bench,  and  ran  his 
hands  through  his  hair.  After  the  third  shot  he 
listened  long  and  earnestly.  As  he  heard  nothing 
he  was  on  the  point  of  going  away.  To  relieve  his 
gloomy  feelings  he  murmured  a  curse  between  his 
teeth,  took  the  gun  and  prepared  to  descend  the 
path.  He  hesitated  a  few  moments  longer,  then 
walked  off  with  decision.     Suddenly  he  met  Vera. 

She  stood  still,  breathing  with  difficulty,  and  laid 
her  hand  on  her  heart.  As  soon  as  he  took  her  hand 
she  was  calm.  Mark  could  not  conceal  his  joy,  but 
his  words  of  greeting  did  not  betray  it. 

"  You  used  to  be  punctual.  Vera,"  he  said,  "  and 
I  used  not  to  have  to  waste  three  shots." 

"  A  reproach  instead  of  a  welcome  1  "  she  said, 
drawing  her  hand  away. 

"  It's  only  by  way  of  beginning  a  conversation 
Happiness  makes  a  fool  of  me,  like  Raisky." 

"  If  happiness  gleamed  before  us,  we  should  not  be 
meeting  in  secret  by  this  precipice,"  she  said,  drawing 
a  long  breath. 

"  We  should  be  sitting  at  your  Grandmother's 
tea-table,  and  waiting  till  someone  arranged  our 
betrothal.  Why  dream  of  these  impossible  things. 
Your  Grandmother  would  not  give  you  to  me." 


214  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  She  would.  She  does  what  I  wish.  That  is 
not  the  hindrance." 

"  You  are  starting  on  this  endless  polemic  again, 
Vera.  We  are  meeting  for  the  last  time,  as  you 
determined  we  should.  Let  us  make  an  end  of  this 
torture." 

"  I  took  an  oath  never  to  come  here  again." 

"  Meanwhile,  the  time  is  precious.  We  are  parting 
for  ever,  if  stupidity  commands,  if  your  Grandmother's 
antiquated  convictions  separate  us.  I  leave  here  a 
week  from  now.  As  you  know  the  document  assuring 
my  freedom  has  arrived.  Let  us  be  together,  and 
not  be  separated  again." 

"  Never  ?  " 

"  Never !  "  he  repeated  angrily,  with  a  gesture 
of  impatience.  "  What  lying  words  those  are,  '  never  ' 
and  '  always.*  Of  course  '  never.'  Does  not  a  year, 
perhaps  two,  three  years,  mean  never  ?  You  want 
a  never  ending  tenderness.     Does  such  a  thing  exist  ?  " 

"  Enough,  Mark !  I  have  heard  enough  of  this 
temporary  affection.  Ah  !  I  am  very  unhappy. 
The  separation  from  you  is  not  the  only  cloud  over 
my  soul.  For  a  year  now  I  have  been  hiding  myself 
from  my  Grandmother,  which  oppresses  me,  and  her 
still  more.  I  hoped  that  in  these  days  my  trouble 
would  end  ;  we  should  put  our  thoughts,  our  hopes, 
our  intentions  on  a  clear  footing.  Then  I  would  go 
to  Grandmother  and  say :  '  This  is  what  I  have  chosen 
for  my  whole  life.'  But  it  is  not  to  be,  and  we  are 
to  part  ?  "  she  asked  sadl}'. 

"  If  I  conceived  myself  to  be  an  angel,"  said  Mark, 
"  I  might  say  '  for  our  whole  lives,'  and  you  would 
be  justified.  That  gray -headed  dreamer,  Raisky, 
also  thinks  that  women  are  created  for  a  higher 
purpose." 

"  They  are  created  above  all  for  the  family.  They 
are  not  angels,  neither  are  they,  most  certainly,  mere 
animals.     I  am  no  wolf's  mate,  Mark,  but  a  woman." 

"  For  the  family,  yes.  But  is  that  any  hindrance 
for  us.  You  want  draperies,  for  fine  feeling,  sympathies 
and  the  rest  of  the  stuff  are  nothing  but  draperies,  like 


THE    PRECIPICE  215 

those  famous  leaves  with  which,  it  is  said,  humai 
beings  covered  themselves  in  Paradise." 

"  Yes,  Mark,  human  beings  !  " 

Mark  smiled  sarcastically,  and  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  They  may  be  draperies,"  continued  Vera,  "  but 
they  also,  according  to  your  own  teaching,  are  given 
by  nature.  What,  I  ask,  is  it  that  attaches  you  to 
me  ?  You  say  you  love  me.  You  have  altered, 
grown  thinner.  Is  it  not,  by  your  conception  of  love, 
a  matter  of  indifference  whether  you  choose  a  com- 
panion in  me,  or  from  the  poor  quarter  of  our  town, 
or  from  a  village  on  the  Volga.  What  has  induced 
you  to  come  down  here  for  a  whole  year  ?  " 

''  Examine  your  own  fallacy,  Vera,"  he  said,  looking 
at  her  gloomily.  "  Love  is  not  a  concept  merely, 
but  a  driving  force,  a  necessity,  and  therefore  is 
mostly  blind.  But  I  am  not  blindly  chained  to  you. 
Your  extraordinary  beauty,  your  intellect  and  your 
free  outlook  hold  me  longer  in  thrall  than  would  be 
possible  with  any  other  woman." 

"  Very  flattering  !  "  she  said  in  a  low,  pained  voice. 

"  These  ideas  of  yours.  Vera,  will  bring  us  to  disaster. 
But  for  them  we  should  for  long  have  been  united 
and  happy." 

"  Happy  for  a  time.  And  then  a  new  driving 
force  will  appear  on  the  scene,  the  stage  will  be  cleared, 
and  so  on." 

"  The  responsibility  is  not  ours.  Nature  has  ordered 
it  so,  and  rightly.  Can  we  alter  Nature,  in  order  to 
live  on  concepts  ? 

"  These  concepts  are  essential  principles.  You 
have  said  yourself  that  Nature  has  her  laws,  and 
human  beings  their  principles." 

"  That  is  where  the  germ  of  disintegration  lies, 
in  that  men  want  to  formulate  principles  from  the 
driving  force  of  Nature,  and  thus  to  hamper  them- 
selves hand  and  foot.  Love  is  happiness,  which 
Nature  has  conferred  on  man.     That  is  my  view." 

"  The  happiness  of  which  you  speak,"  said  Vera, 
rising,  "  has  as  its  complement,  duty.  That  is  my 
view." 


2i6  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  How  fantastic !  Forget  your  duty,  Vera,  and 
acquiesce  in  the  fact  that  love  is  a  driving  force  of 
Nature,  often  an  uncontrollable  one."  Then  standing 
up  to  her  embraced  her,  saying,  "  Is  that  not  so,  you 
most  obstinate,  beautiful  and  wisest  of  women  ?  " 

"  Yes,  duty,"  she  said  haughtily,  disengaging  her- 
self. "  For  the  j^ears  of  happiness  retribution  will  be 
exacted." 

"  How  ?  In  making  soup,  nursing  one  another, 
looking  at  one  another  and  pretending,  in  harping 
on  principles,  as  we  ourselves  fade  ?  If  one  half 
falls  ill  and  retrogresses,  shall  the  other  who  is  strong, 
who  hears  the  call  of  life,  allow  himself  to  be  held 
back  by  duty  ?  " 

"  Yes.  In  that  case  he  must  not  listen  to  the  calls 
that  come  to  him  ;  he  must,  to  use  Grandmother's 
expression,  avoid  the  voice  as  he  would  the  brandy 
bottle.     That  is  how  I  understand  happiness." 

"  Your  case  must  be  a  bad  one  if  it  has  to  be  bolstered 
up  b}^  quotations  from  your  Grandmother's  wisdom. 
Tell  me  how  firmly  your  principles  are  rooted." 

"  I  will  go  to  her  to-dav,  direct  from  here." 

"  To  tell  her  what  ?  "  " 

"  To  tell  her  what  there  is  between  us,  all  that  she 
does  not  know,"  she  said,  sitting  down  on  the  bench 
again . 

"  Why  ?  "  ^ 

"  You  don't  understand,  because  you  don't  know 
what  duty  means.  I  have  been  guilty  before  her 
for  a  long  time." 

"  That  is  the  morality  which  smothers  life  with 
mould  and  dulness.  Vera,  Vera,  you  don't  love, 
you  do  not  know  how  !  " 

"  You  ought  not  to  speak  like  that,  unless  you  wish 
to  drive  me  to  despair.  Am  I  to  think  that  there 
is  deception  in  your  past,  that  you  want  to  ruin  me 
when  you  do  not  love  me  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  Vera,"  he  said,  rising  hastily  to  his  feet. 
"  If  I  had  wanted  to  deceive  you  I  could  have  done 
so  long  ago." 

"  What  a  desperate  war  you  wage  against  yourself, 


THE    PRECIPICE  217 

Mark,  and  how  you  ruin  your  own  life  !  "  she  cried, 
wringing  her  hands. 

"  Let  us  cease  to  quarrel,  Vera.  Your  Grandmother 
speaks  through  you,  but  with  another  voice.  That 
was  all  very  well  once,  but  now  we  are  in  the  flood  of 
another  life  where  neither  authority  nor  preconceived 
ideas  will  help  us,  where  truth  alone  asserts  her  power." 

"  Where  is  truth  ?  " 

"  In  happiness,  in  the  joy  of  love.  And  I  love  you. 
Why  do  you  torture  me.  Why  do  you  fight  against 
me  and  against  yourself,  and  make  two  victims  ?  " 

"It  is  a  strange  reproach.  Look  at  me.  It  is 
only  a  few  days  since  we  saw  one  another,  and  have 
I  not  changed  ?  " 

"  I  see  that  you  suffer,  and  that  makes  it  the  more 
senseless.  Now,  I  too  ask  what  has  induced  you 
to  come  down  here  for  all  this  time  ? 

"  Because  I  had  not  earlier  realised  the  horror  of 
my  position,  you  will  say,"  she  said,  with  a  look  that 
was  almost  hostile.  "  We  might  have  asked  one 
another  this  question,  and  made  this  reproach,  long 
ago,  and  might  have  ceased  to  meet  here.  Better  late 
than  never  1  To-day  we  must  answer  the  question. 
What  is  it  that  we  wanted  and  expected  from  one 
another  ? 

"  Here  is  my  irrefragable  opinion — I  want  your 
love,  and  I  give  you  mine.  In  love  I  recognise  solely 
the  principle  of  reciprocation,  as  it  obtains  in  Nature. 
The  law  that  I  acknowledge  is  to  follow  unfettered 
our  strong  impression,  to  exchange  happiness  for 
happiness.  This  answers  your  question  of  why  I 
came  here.  Is  sacrifice  necessary  ?  Call  it  what  you 
will  there  is  no  sacrifice  in  my  scheme  of  life.  I  will 
no  longer  wander  in  this  morass,  and  don't  understand 
how  I  have  wasted  my  strength  so  long,  certainly  not 
for  your  sake,  but  essentially  for  my  own.  Here  I 
will  stay  so  long  as  I  am  happy,  so  long  as  I  love. 
If  my  love  grows  cold,  I  shall  tell  you  so,  and  go 
wherever  Life  leads  me,  without  taking  any  baggage 
of  duties  and  privileges  with  me  ;  those  I  leave  here  in 
the  depths    below  the  precipice.     You  see,   Vera,   I 


2i8  THE    PRECIPICE 

don't  deceive  you,  but  speak  frankly.  Naturally 
you  possess  the  same  rights  as  I.  The  mob  above 
there  lies  to  itself  and  others,  and  calls  these  his 
principles.  But  in  secret  and  by  cunning  it  acts  in 
the  same  way,  and  only  lays  its  ban  on  the  women. 
Between  us  there  must  be  equality.  Is  that  fair  or 
not  ?  " 

"  Sophistry  I  "  she  said,  shaking  her  head.  "  You 
know  my  principles,  Mark." 

"  To  hang  like  stones  round  one  another's  necks." 

"  Love  imposes  duties,  just  as  life  demands  them. 
If  you  had  an  old,  blind  mother  you  would  maintain 
and  support  her,  would  remain  by  her.  An  honour- 
able man  holds  it  to  be  his  duty  and  his  pleasure  too." 

"  You  philosophise.  Vera,  but  you  do  not  love." 

"  You  avoid  my  argument,  Mark.  I  speak  my 
opinion  plainly,  for  I  am  a  woman,  not  an  animal,  or  a 
machine." 

"  Your  love  is  the  fantastic,  elaborate  type  described 
in  novels.  Is  what  you  ask  of  me  honourable  ? 
Against  my  convictions  I  am  to  go  into  a  church,  to 
submit  to  a  ceremony  which  has  no  meaning  for  me. 
I  don't  believe  any  of  it  and  can't  endure  the  parson. 
Should  I  be  acting  logically  or  honourably  ?  " 

Vera  hastily  wrapped  herself  in  her  mantilla,  and 
stood  up  to  go. 

"  We  met,  Mark,  to  remove  all  the  obstacles  that 
stand  in  the  way  of  our  happiness,  but  instead  of 
that  we  are  increasing  them.  You  handle  roughly 
things  that  are  sacred  to  me.  Why  did  you  call  me 
here  ?  I  thought  you  had  surrendered,  that  we 
should  take  one  another's  hands  for  ever.  Every  time 
I  have  taken  the  path  down  the  cliff  it  has  been  in 
this  hope,  and  in  the  end  I  am  disappointed.  Do 
you  know,  Mark,  where  true  life  lies  ?  " 

"  Where  ?  " 

"  In  the  heart  of  a  loving  woman.  To  be  the 
friend  of  such  a  woman.  .  .  ." 

Tears  stifled  her  voice,  but  through  her  sobs  she 
whispered  :  "  I  cannot,  Mark.  Neither  my  intellect 
nor  my  strength  are  sufficient  to  dispute  with  you. 


THE    PRECIPICE  219 

My  weapon  is  weak,  and  has  no  value  except  that  I 
have  drawn  it  from  the  armoury  of  a  quiet  Hfe,  not 
from  books  or  hearsay.  I  had  thought  to  conquer 
you  with  other  weapons.  Do  you  remember  how 
all  this  began  ?  "  she  said,  sitting  down  once  more. 
"  At  first  I  was  sorry  for  you.  You  were  here  alone, 
with  no  one  to  understand  you,  and  everyone  fled  at 
the  sight  of  you.  I  was  drawn  to  you  by  sympathy, 
and  saw  something  strange  and  undisciplined  in  you. 
You  had  no  care  for  propriety,  you  were  incautious 
in  speech,  you  played  rashly  with  life,  cared  for  no 
human  being,  had  no  faith  of  your  own,  and  sought  to 
win  disciples.  From  curiosity  I  followed  your  steps, 
allowed  you  to  meet  me,  took  books  from  you.  I 
recognised  in  you  intellect  and  strength,  but  strangely 
mixed  and  directed  away  from  life.  Then,  to  my 
sorrow,  I  imagined  that  I  could  teach  you  to  value 
life,  I  wanted  you  to  live  so  that  you  should  be  higher 
and  better  than  anyone  else,  I  quarrelled  with  you 
over  your  undisciplined  way  of  living.  You  submitted 
to  my  influence,  and  I  submitted  to  yours,  to  your 
intellect,  your  audacity,  and  even  adopted  part  of 
your  sophistry." 

"  But  you  soon,"  put  in  Mark,  "  retraced  your 
steps,  and  were  seized  with  fear  of  your  Grandmother. 
Why  did  you  not  leave  me  when  you  first  became 
aware  of  my  sophistry  ?     Sophistry  !  " 

"  It  was  too  late,  for  I  had  already  taken  your  fate 
too  intimately  to  heart.  I  believed  with  all  possible 
ardour  that  you  would  for  my  sake  comprehend  life, 
that  you  would  cease  to  wander  about  to  your  own 
injury  and  without  advantage  to  anyone  else,  that 
you  would  accept  a  substantial  position  of  some 
kind.  .  .  ." 

"  Vice-governor,  Councillor  or  something  of  the 
kind,"  he  mocked. 

"  What's  in  the  name  ?  Yes,  I  thought  that  you 
would  show  yourself  a  man  of  action  in  a  wide  sphere 
of  influence." 

"  As  a  well-disposed  subject  and  as  jack  of  all  trades, 
and  what  else  ?  " 


220  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  My  lifelong  friend.  I  let  my  hopes  of  you  take 
hold  on  me,  and  was  carried  away  by  them,  and 
what  are  my  gains  in  the  terrible  conflict  ?  One 
only,  that  you  flee  from  love,  from  happiness,  from 
life,  and  from  your  Vera."  She  drew  closer  to  him 
and  touched  his  shoulder.  "  Don't  fly  from  us,  Mark. 
Look  in  my  eyes,  listen  to  my  voice,  which  speaks 
with  the  voice  of  truth.  Let  us  go  to-morrow  up 
the  hill  into  the  garden,  and  to-morrow  there  will  be 
no  happier  pair  than  we  are.  You  love  me,  Mark. 
Mark,  do  you  hear  ?  Look  at  me." 
She  stooped,  and  looked  into  his  e3'es. 
He  got  sharply  to  his  feet,  and  shook  his  mass  of 
hair. 

Vera  took  up  her  black  mantilla  once  more,  but  her 
hands  refused  to  obey  her,  and  the  mantilla  fell  on 
the  floor.  She  took  a  step  towards  the  door,  but 
sank  down  again  on  the  bench.  Where  could  she 
find  strength  to  hold  him,  when  she  had  not  even 
strength  to  leave  the  arbour,  she  wondered.  And 
even  if  she  could  hold  him,  what  would  be  the  con- 
sequences ?  Not  one  life,  but  two  separate  lives, 
two  prisons,  divided  by  a  grating. 

"  We  are  both  brusque  and  strong,  Vera  ;  that  is 
why  we  torture  one  another,  why  we  are  sepa- 
rating." 

"  If  I  were  strong,  you  would  not  leave  Malinovka  ; 
you  would  ascend  the  hill  with  me,  not  clandestinely, 
but  boldly  by  my  side.  Come  and  share  life  and 
happiness  with  me.  It  is  impossible  that  you  should 
not  trust  me,  impossible  that  you  are  insincere,  for 
that  would  be  a  crime.  What  shall  I  do  ?  How 
shall  I  bring  home  to  you  the  truth  ?  " 

"  You  would  have  to  be  stronger  than  I,  but  we 
are  of  equal  strength.  That  is  why  we  dispute  and 
are  not  of  one  mind.  We  must  separate  without 
bringing  our  struggle  to  an  issue,  one  must  submit  to 
the  other.  I  could  take  forcible  possession  of  you 
as  I  could  of  any  other  woman.  But  what  in  another 
woman  is  prudery,  or  petty  fear,  or  stupidity,  is  in 
you  strength  and  womanly  determination.     The  mist 


THE    PRECIPICE  221 

that  divided  us  is  dispersed  ;  we  have  made  our  position 
clear.  Nature  has  endued  you  with  a  powerful 
weapon,  Vera.  The  antiquated  ideas,  morality,  duty, 
principles,  and  faiths  that  do  not  exist  for  me  are 
firmly  established  with  you.  You  are  not  easily 
carried  away,  you  put  up  a  desperate  fight  and  will 
only  confess  yourself  conquered  under  terms  of  equality 
with  your  opponent.  You  are  wrong,  for  it  is  a 
kind  of  theft.  You  ask  to  be  conquered,  and  to  carry 
off  all  the  spoils  1  I,  Vera,  cannot  give  everything,  but 
I  respect  you." 

Vera  gave  him  a  glance  in  which  there  was  a  trace 
of  pride,  but  her  heart  beat  with  the  pain  of  parting. 
His  words  were  a  model  of  what  a  farewell  should 
be. 

"  We  have  gone  to  the  bottom  of  the  matter," 
said  Mark  dully,  "  and  I  leave  the  decision  in  your 
hands."  He  went  to  the  other  side  of  the  arbour, 
keeping  his  eyes  fixed  upon  her.  "  I  am  not  deceiving 
you  even  now,  in  this  decisive  moment,  when  my 
head  is  giddy — I  cannot.  I  do  not  promise  you  an 
unending  love,  because  I  do  not  believe  in  such  a 
thing.  I  will  not  be  your  betrothed.  But  I  love 
you  more  than  anything  else  in  the  world.  If,  after 
all  I  have  told  you,  you  come  to  my  arms,  it  means 
that  youJove  me,  that  you  are  mine." 

She  looked  across  at  him  with  wide  open  eyes,  and 
felt  that  her  whole  body  was  trembling.  A  doubt 
shot  through  her  mind.  Was  he  a  Jesuit,  or  was  the 
man  who  brought  her  into  this  dangerous  dilemma 
in  reality  of  unbending  honour  ? 

"  Yours  for  ever  ?  "  she  said  in  a  low  voice.  If 
he  said,  "  yes,"  it  would,  she  knew,  be  a  bridge  for  the 
moment  to  help  her  over  the  abyss  that  divided  them, 
but  that  afterwards  she  would  be  plunged  into  the 
abyss.     She  was  afraid  of  him. 

Mark  was  painfully  agitated,  but  he  answered 
in  a  subdued  tone,  "  I  do  not  know.  I  only  know 
what  I  am  doing  now,  and  do  not  see  even  into  the 
near  future.  Neither  can  you.  Let  us  give  love  for 
love,  and  I  remain  here,  quieter  than  the  waters  of 


222  THE    PRECIPICE 

the  pool,  humbler  than  grass.  I  will  do  what  you 
will,  and  what  do  you  ask  more.  Or,"  he  added 
suddenly,  coming  nearer,  "  we  will  leave  this  place 
altogether.   ..." 

In  a  lightning  flash  the  wide  world  seemed  to  smile 
before  her,  as  if  the  gates  of  Paradise  were  open. 
She  threw  herself  in  Mark's  arms  and  laid  her  hand 
on  his  shoulder.  If  she  went  away  into  the  far 
distance  with  him,  she  thought,  he  could  not  tear 
himself  from  her,  and  once  alone  with  her  he  must 
realise  that  life  was  only  life  in  her  presence. 

"  Will  you  decide  !  "  he  asked  seriously.  She  said 
nothing,  but  bowed  her  head.  "  Or  do  you  fear 
your  Grandmother  ?  " 

The  last  words  brought  her  to  her  senses,  and  she 
stepped  back. 

"  If  I  do  not  decide,"  she  whispered,  "  it  is  only 
because  I  fear  her." 

"  The  old  lady  would  not  let  you  go." 
"  She  would   let  me  go,   and  would  give  me  her 
blessing,  but  she  herself  would  die  of  grief.     That  is 
what  I  fear.     To  go  away  together,"  she  said  dreamily, 
"and  what  then?  "     She  looked  up  at  him  searchingly. 
"  And  then  ?     How  can  I  know,  Vera  ?  " 
"  You  will  suddenly  be  driven  from  me  ;   you  will 
go  and  leave  me,  as  if  I  were  merely  a  log  ?  " 
"  Why  a  log  ?     We  could  separate  as  friends." 
"  Separation  !     Do  the  ideas  of  love  and  separation 
exist  side  by  side  in  your  mind  ?     They  are  extremes 
which  should  never  meet.     Separation  must  only  come 
with  death.     Farewell,  Mark  !     You  can  never  promise 
me   the  happiness   that    I   seek.     All   is   at   an   end. 
Farewell !  " 

"  Farewell,  Vera  I  "  he  said  in  a  voice  quite  unlike 
his  own. 

Both  were  pale,  and  avoided  one  another's  eyes. 
In  the  white  moonlight  that  gleamed  through  the 
trees  Vera  sought  her  mantilla,  and  grasped  the 
gun  instead.  At  last  she  found  the  mantilla,  but 
could  not  put  it  on  her  shoulders.  Mark  helped  her 
mechanically,    but   left    his   own   belongings    behind. 


THE    PRECIPICE  223 

They  went  silently  up  the  path,  with  slow  and 
hesitating  steps,  as  if  each  expected  something  from 
the  other,  both  of  them  occupied  with  the  same  mental 
effort  to  find  a  pretext  for  delay.  They  came  at 
last  to  the  spot  where  Mark's  way  lay  across  a  low 
fence,  and  hers  by  the  winding  path  through  the 
bushes  up  to  the  park. 

Vera  stood  still.  She  seemed  to  see  the  events 
of  her  whole  life  pass  before  her  in  quick  succession, 
but  saw  none  filled  with  bitterness  like  the  present. 
Her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  She  felt  a  violent  impulse 
to  look  round  once  more,  to  see  him  once  more,  to 
measure  with  her  eyes  the  extent  of  her  loss,  and 
then  to  hurry  on  again.  But  however  great  her 
sorrow  for  her  wrecked  happiness  she  dare  not  look 
round,  for  she  knew  it  would  be  equivalent  to  saying 
Yes  to  destiny.     She  took  a  few  steps  up  the  path. 

Mark  strode  fiercely  away  towards  the  hedge,  like 
a  wild  beast  baulked  of  his  prey.  He  had  not  lied 
when  he  said  that  he  esteemed  Vera,  but  it  was  an 
esteem  wrung  from  him  against  his  will,  the  esteem 
of  the  soldier  for  a  brave  enemy.  He  cursed  the  old- 
fashioned  ideas  which  had  enchained  her  free  and 
vivacious  spirit.  His  suffering  was  the  suffering  of 
despair  ;  he  was  in  the  mood  of  a  madman  who  would 
shatter  a  treasure  of  which  the  possession  was  denied 
him,  in  order  that  no  one  else  might  possess  it.  He 
was  ready  to  spring,  and  could  hardly  restrain  himself 
from  laying  violent  hands  on  Vera.  By  his  own 
confession  to  her  he  would  have  treated  any  other 
woman  so,  but  not  Vera.  Then  the  conviction  gnawed 
at  his  heart  that  for  the  sake  of  the  woman  who  was 
now  escaping  him  he  was  neglecting  his  "  mission." 
His  pride  suffered  unspeakably  by  the  confession  of 
his  own  powerlessness.  He  admitted  that  the  beautiful 
statue  filled  with  the  breath  of  life  had  character  ; 
she  acted  in  accordance  with  her  own  proud  will, 
not  by  the  influence  of  outside  suggestion.  His  new 
conception  of  truth  did  not  subdue  her  strong,  healthy 
temperament  ;  it  rather  induced  her  to  submit  it 
to  a  minute  analysis  and  to  stick  closer  to  her  own 


224  THE    PRECIPICE 

conception  of  the  truth.  And  now  she  was  going, 
and  as  the  traces  of  her  footsteps  would  vanish,  so 
all  that  had  passed  between  them  would  be  lost. 
And  with  her  went  all  the  charm  and  glory  of  life, 
never  to  return. 

He  stamped  his  feet  with  rage  and  swung  himself 
on  to  the  fence.  He  would  cast  one  glance  in  her 
direction  to  see  if  the  haughty  creature  was  really 
going. 

"  One  more  glance,"  thought  Vera.  She  turned, 
and  shuddered  to  see  Mark  sitting  on  the  fence  and 
gazing  at  her. 

"  Farewell,  Mark,"  she  cried,  in  a  voice  trembling 
with  despair. 

From  his  throat  there  issued  a  low,  wild  cry  of 
triumph.  In  a  moment  he  was  by  her  side,  with 
victory  and  the  conviction  of  her  surrender  in  his 
heart. 

"  Vera  !  " 

"  You  have  come  back,  for  always  ?  You  have  at 
last  understood.     What  happiness  !  God  forgive.  .  .  ." 

She  did  not  complete  her  sentence,  for  she  lay 
wrapt  in  his  embrace,  her  sobs  quenched  by  his  kisses. 
He  raised  her  in  his  arms,  and  like  a  wild  animal 
carrying  off  his  prey,  ran  with  her  back  to  the  arbour. 

God  forgive  her  for  having  turned  back. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

Raisky  lay  on  the  grass  at  the  top  of  the  cliff  for  a 
long  time  in  gloomy  meditation,  groaning  over  the 
penalty  he  must  pay  for  his  generosity,  suffering 
alike  for  himself  and  Vera.  "  Perhaps  she  is  laughing 
at  my  folly,  down  there  with  him.  Who  is  there  ?  " 
he  cried  aloud,  stung  with  rage.  "  I  will  have  his 
name."  He  saw  himself  merely  as  a  shield  to  cover 
her  passion.  He  sprang  up  wildly,  and  hurried 
down  the  precipice,  tearing  his  clothes  in  the  bushes 


THE    PRECIPICE  225 

and  listening  in  vain  for  a  suspicious  rustling.  He 
told  himself  that  it  was  an  evil  thing  to  pry  into 
another's  secret ;  it  was  robbery.  He  stood  still  a 
moment  to  wipe  the  sweat  from  his  brow,  but  his 
sufferings  overcame  his  scruples.  He  felt  his  way 
stealthily  forward,  cursing  every  broken  branch 
that  cracked  under  his  feet,  and  unconscious  of  the 
blows  he  received  on  his  face  from  the  rebounding 
branches  as  he  forced  his  way  through.  He  threw 
himself  on  the  ground  to  regain  his  breath,  then  in 
order  not  to  betray  his  presence  crept  along,  digging 
his  nails  into  the  ground  as  he  went.  When  he  reached 
the  suicide's  grave  he  halted,  uncertain  which  way 
to  follow,  and  at  length  made  for  the  arbour,  listening 
and  searching  the  ground  as  he  went. 

Meanwhile  everything  was  going  on  as  usual  in 
Tatiana  Markovna's  household.  After  supper  the 
company  sat  yawning  in  the  hall,  Tiet  Nikonich  alone 
being  indefatigable  in  his  attentions,  shuffling  his 
foot  when  he  made  a  polite  remark,  and  looking  at 
each  lady  as  if  he  were  ready  to  sacrifice  everything 
for  her  sake. 

"Where  is  Monsieur  Boris?"  inquired  Paulina 
Karpovna,  addressing  Tatiana  Markovna. 

"  Probably  he  is  paying  a  visit  in  the  town.  He 
never  says  where  he  spends  his  time,  so  that  I  never 
know  where  to  send  the  carriage  for  him." 

Inquiries  made  of  Yakob  revealed  the  fact  that 
he  had  been  in  the  garden  up  to  a  late  hour.  Vera 
was  not  in  the  house  when  she  was  summoned  to 
tea.  She  had  left  word  that  they  were  not  to  keep 
supper  for  her,  and  that  she  would  send  across  for 
some  if  she  were  hungry.  No  one  but  Raisky  had 
seen  her  go. 

Tatiana  Markovna  sighed  over  their  perversity,  to 
be  wandering  about  at  such  hours,  in  such  cold  weather. 

"  I  will  go  into  the  garden,"  said  Paulina  Karpovna. 
"  Perhaps  Monsieur  Boris  is  not  far  away.  He  will 
be  delighted  to  see  me.  I  noticed,"  she  continued 
confidentially,  "  that  he  had  something  to  say  to 
me.     He  could  not  have  known  I  was  here." 


226  THE   PRECIPICE 

Marfinka  whispered  to  Vikentev  that  he  did  know, 
and  had  gone  out  on  that  account, 

"  I  will  go,  Marfa  Vassilievna,  and  hide  behind  a 
bush,  imitate  Boris  Pavlovich's  voice  and  make 
her  a  declaration,"  suggested  Vikentev. 

"  Sta}?^  here,  Nikolai  Andreevich.  Paulina  Kar- 
povna  might  be  frightened  and  faint.  Then  you 
would  have  to  reckon  with  Grandmother." 

"  I  am  going  into  the  garden  for  a  moment  to  fetch 
the  fugitive,"  said  Pauhna  Karpovna. 

"  God  be  with  you,  Paulina  Karpovna,"  said 
Tatiana  Markovna.  "  Don't  put  your  nose  outside 
in  the  darkness,  or  at  any  rate  take  Egorka  with 
you  to  carry  a  lantern." 

"  No,  I  will  go  alone.  It  is  not  necessary  for  any- 
one to  disturb  us." 

"You  ought  not,"  intervened  Tiet  Nikonich  pohtely, 
"  to  go  out  after  eight  o'clock  on  these  damp  nights.  I 
would  not  have  ventured  to  detain  you,  but  a  physician 
from  Diisseldorf  on  the  Rhine,  whose  book  I  am  now 
reading  and  can  lend  you  if  you  like,  and  who  gives 
excellent  advice,  says.  .  .  ." 

Paulina  Karpovna  interrupted  him  by  asking  him 
if  he  would  see  her  home,  and  then  went  into  the 
garden  before  he  could  resume  his  remarks.  He  agreed 
to  her  request  and  shut  the  door  after  her. 

Soon  after  Paulina  Karpovna's  exit  there  was  a 
rustling  and  crackling  on  the  precipice,  and  Raisky 
wearing  the  aspect  of  a  restless,  wounded  animal, 
appeared  out  of  the  darkness.  He  sat  for  several 
minutes  motionless  on  Vera's  favourite  bench,  covering 
his  eyes  with  his  hands.  Was  it  dream  or  reality,  he 
asked  himself.  He  must  have  been  mistaken.  Such 
a  thing  could  not  be.  He  stood  up,  then  sat  down 
again  to  listen.  With  his  hands  lying  listlessly  on 
his  knees,  he  broke  into  laughter  over  his  doubts, 
his  questionings,  his  secret.  Again  he  had  an  access 
of  terrible  laughter.  Vera — and  he.  The  cloak  which 
he  himself  had  sent  to  the  "  exile  "  lay  near  the 
arbour.  The  rogue  had  been  clever  enough  to  get 
two  hundred  and  twenty  roubles  for  the  settlement 


THE    PRECIPICE  227 

of  his  wager,  and  the  earher  eighty  in  addition. 
Sekleteia  Burdalakov  ! 

Again  he  laughed  with  a  laugh  very  near  a  groan. 
Suddenly  he  stopped,  and  put  his  hand  to  his  side, 
seized  with  a  sudden  consciousness  of  pain.  Vera 
was  free,  but  he  told  himself  she  had  dared  to  mock 
another  fellow  human  being  who  had  been  rash  enough 
to  love  her  ;  she  had  mocked  her  friend.  His  soul  cried 
for  revenge. 

He  sprang  up  intent  on  revenge,  but  was  checked 
by  the  question  of  how  to  avenge  himself.  To  bring 
Tatiana  Markovna,  with  lanterns,  and  a  crowd  of 
servants  and  to  expose  the  scandal  in  a  glare  of  light  ; 
to  say  to  her,  "  Here  is  the  serpent  you  have  carried 
for  two  and  twenty  years  in  your  bosom " — that 
would  be  a  vulgar  revenge  of  which  he  knew  himself 
to  be  incapable.  Such  a  revenge  would  hit,  not  Vera, 
but  his  aunt,  who  was  to  him  like  his  mother.  His 
head  drooped  for  a  moment  ;  then  he  rose  and  hurried 
like  a  madman  down  the  precipice  once  more. 

There  in  the  depths  passion  was  holding  her  festival, 
night  drew  her  curtain  over  the  song  of  love,  love  .  .  . 
with  Mark.  If  she  had  surrendered  to  another  lover, 
to  the  tall,  handsome  Tushin,  the  owner  of  land,  lake, 
and  forest,  and  the  Olympian  tamer  of  horses.  .  .  . 

He  could  hardly  breathe.  Against  his  will  there 
rose  before  him,  from  the  depths  of  the  precipice,  the 
vision  of  Vera's  figure,  glorified  with  a  seductive  beauty 
that  he  had  never  yet  seen  in  her,  and  though  he  was 
devoured  by  agony  he  could  not  take  his  eyes  from 
the  vision.  At  her  feet,  like  a  lion  at  rest,  lay  Mark, 
with  triumph  on  his  face.  Her  foot  rested  on  his 
head.  Horror  seized  him,  and  drove  him  onward,  to 
destroy  and  mar  the  vision.  He  seemed  to  hear  in  the 
air  the  flattering  words,  the  songs  and  the  sighs  of 
passion  ;  the  vision  became  fainter,  mist-enshrouded, 
and  finally  vanished  into  air,  but  the  rage  for  revenge 
remained. 

Everywhere  was  stillness  and  darkness,  as  he  climbed 
the  hill  once  more,  but  when  he  reached  Vera's  bench 
he  saw  a  human  shadow. 


228  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  Who  is  there  ?  "  he  cried. 

"  Monsieur  Boris,  it  is  I,  Paulina." 

"  You,  what  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  I  came,  because  I  knew,  I  knew  that  you  have 
long  had  something  to  say  to  me,  but  have  hesitated. 
Du  courage.  There  is  no  one  to  see  or  hear  us.  Espcrez 
tout.  ... 

"  What  do  you  want  ?     Speak  out." 

"  Que  votis  m'aimez.  I  have  known  it  for  a  long 
time.  Vous  m'avez  fui,  mats  la  passion  vous  a  ramene 
ici.  ..." 

He  seized  her  roughly  by  the  hand,  and  pushed  her 
to  the  edge  of  the  precipice. 

"  Kh.,  de  grace.  Mais  pas  si  brusquemeni.  .  .  qu'est — 
ce  que  vous  faites  .  .  .  mais  laissez  done,"  she  groaned. 

Her  anxiety  was  not  altogether  groundless,  for  she 
stood  on  the  edge  of  an  abrupt  fall  of  the  ground,  and 
he  grasped  her  hand  more  determinedly. 

"  You  want  love,"  he  cried  to  the  terrified  woman. 
"  Listen,  to-night  is  love's  night.  Do  you  hear  the 
sighs,  the  kisses,  the  breath  of  passion  ?  " 

"  Let  me  go  I     Let  me  go  1     I  shall  fall." 

"  Away  from  here,"  he  cried,  loosening  his  grasp 
and  drawing  a  deep  breath. 

Like  a  madman  he  ran  across  the  garden  and  the 
flower  garden  into  the  yard,  where  Egorka  was  washing 
his  hands  and  face  at  the  spring. 

"Bring  my  trunk,"  he  cried.  "I  am  going  to  St. 
Petersburg  in  the  morning."  He  ran  water  over  his 
hands  and  washed  his  face  and  eyes  before  he  turned 
to  go  to  his  room. 

He  could  not  stay  within  the  four  walls  of  his 
chamber.  He  went  out  again  and  again,  unprotected 
against  the  cold,  to  look  at  Vera's  window.  It  was 
hardly  possible  to  see  ten  paces  ahead  in  the  darkness. 
He  went  to  the  acacia  arbour  to  watch  for  Vera's 
return,  and  was  furious  because  he  could  not  conceal 
himself  there,  now  that  the  leaves  had  fallen.  He  sat 
there  in  torture  until  morning  dawned,  not  from 
passion,  which  had  been  drowned  in  that  night's 
experiences.     What  passion  would  stand  such  a  shock 


THE    PRECIPICE  229 

as  this  ?  But  he  had  an  unconquerable  desire  to 
look  Vera  in  the  face,  this  new  Vera,  and  with  one 
glance  of  scorn  to  show  her  the  shame,  the  affront  she 
had  put  on  him,  on  their  aunt,  on  the  whole  household, 
on  their  society,  on  womanhood  itself.  He  awaited 
her  return  in  a  fever  of  impatience.  Suddenly  he 
sprang  up  with  an  evil  look  of  triumph  on  his  face. 

"  Fate  has  given  me  the  idea,"  he  thought.  He  found 
the  gates  still  locked,  but  there  was  a  lamp  before  the 
ikon  in  Savili's  room,  and  he  ordered  him  to  let  him 
out  and  to  leave  the  gates  unlocked.  He  took  from 
his  room  the  bouquet  holder  and  hastened  to  the 
orangery  to  the  gardener.  He  had  to  wait  a  long 
time  before  it  opened.  The  light  grew  stronger. 
When  he  looked  over  at  the  trees  in  the  orangery,  an 
evil  smile  again  crossed  his  face.  The  gardener  was 
arranging    Marfinka's    bouquet. 

"  I  want  another  bouquet,"  said  Raisky  unsteadily. 

"  One  like  this  ?  " 

"  No,  only  orange  blossoms,"  he  whispered,  turning 
paler  as  he  spoke. 

"  Right,  Sir,"  said  the  gardener,  recalling  that  one 
of  Tatiana  Markovna's  young  ladies  was  betrothed. 

"  I  am  thirsty,"  said  Raisky.  "  Give  me  a  glass 
of  water." 

He  drank  the  water  greedily,  and  hurried  the  gardener 
on.  When  the  second  bouquet  was  ready  he  paid 
lavishly. 

He  returned  to  the  house  cautiously,  carrying  the 
two  bouquets.  As  he  did  not  know  whether  Vera 
had  returned  in  his  absence,  he  had  Marina  called,  and 
sent  her  to  see  if  her  mistress  was  at  home  or  had 
already  gone  out  walking.  On  hearing  she  was  out 
he  ordered  Marfinka's  bouquet  to  be  put  on  Vera's 
table  and  the  window  to  be  opened.  Then  he  dismissed 
Marina,  and  returned  to  the  acacia  arbour.  Passion 
and  jealousy  set  loose  raged  unchecked,  and  when 
pity  raised  her  head  she  was  quenched  by  the  torturing, 
overmastering  feeling  of  outrage.  He  suppressed  the 
low  voice  of  sympathy,  and  his  better  self  was  silent. 


230  THE    PRECIPICE 

He  was  shuddering,  conscious  that  poison  flowed  in 
his  veins,  the  poison  of  Hes  and  deception. 

"  I  must  either  shoot  this  dog  Mark,  or  myself," 
he  thought. 

He  held  the  bouquet  of  orange-blossoms  in  his  two 
hands,  like  a  sacred  thing,  and  drank  in  its  beauty  with 
a  wild  delight.  Then  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  dark 
avenue,  but  she  did  not  come. 

Broad  daylight  came,  a  fine  rain  began  to  fall  and 
made  the  paths  sodden.  At  last  Vera  appeared  in 
the  distance.  His  heart  beat  faster,  and  his  knees 
trembled  so  that  he  had  to  steady  himself  by  the 
bench  to  keep  from  falling. 

She  came  slowly  nearer,  with  her  bowed  head 
wrapped  in  a  dark  mantilla,  held  in  place  over  her 
breast  by  her  pale  hands,  and  walked  into  the  porch 
without  seeing  him.  Raisky  sprang  from  his  place  of 
observation,  and  hid  himself  under  her  window. 

She  entered  her  room  in  a  dream,  without  noticing 
that  her  clothes  which  she  had  flung  on  the  floor  when 
she  went  out  had  been  put  back  again,  and  without 
observing  the  bouquet  on  the  table  or  the  opened 
window.  Mechanically  she  threw  aside  her  mantilla, 
and  changed  her  muddy  shoes  for  satin  slippers  ;  then 
she  sank  down  on  the  divan,  and  closed  her  eyes. 
After  a  brief  minute  she  was  awakened  from  her  dream 
by  the  thud  of  something  falling  on  the  floor.  She 
opened  her  eyes  and  saw  on  the  floor  a  great  sheaf  of 
orange  blossoms,  which  had  plainly  been  thrown 
through  the  window. 

Pale  as  death,  and  without  picking  up  the  flowers, 
she  hurried  to  the  window.  She  saw  Raisky,  as  he 
went  away,  and  stood  transfixed.  He  looked  round, 
and  their  eyes  met. 

She  was  seized  by  pain  so  sharp  that  she  could 
hardly  breathe,  and  stepped  back.  Then  she  saw  the 
bouquet  intended  for  Marfinka  on  the  table.  She 
picked  it  up,  half  unconsciously,  to  press  it  to  her  face, 
but  it  slipped  from  her  hands,  and  she  herself  fell 
unconscious  on  the  floor. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

At  ten  o'clock  the  big  bell  in  the  village  church  began 
to  sound  for  Mass.  Tatiana  Markovna's  household 
was  full  of  stir  and  bustle.  The  horses  were  being 
harnessed  to  the  caliche  and  to  an  old  fashioned 
carriage.  The  coachmen,  already  drunk,  donned  their 
new  dark  blue  caftans,  and  their  hair  shone  with 
grease.  The  women  servants  made  a  gay  picture  in 
their  many  coloured  cotton  dresses,  head  and  neck 
kerchiefs,  and  the  maids  employed  in  the  house 
diffused  a  scent  of  cloves  within  a  ten  yards  radius. 
The  cooks  had  donned  their  white  caps  in  the  early 
morning,  and  had  been  incessantly  busy  in  the  prepara- 
tion of  the  breakfast,  dinner  and  supper  to  be  served 
to  the  family  and  their  guests,  the  kitchen,  and  the 
servants  the  visitors  brought  with  them. 

Tatiana  Markovna  had  begun  to  make  her  toilet 
at  eight  o'clock,  as  soon  as  she  had  given  her  orders  ; 
she  descended  to  the  hall  to  greet  her  guests  with  the 
reserved  dignity  of  a  great  lady,  and  the  gentle  smile  of 
a  happy  mother  and  a  hospitable  hostess.  She  had  set  a 
small  simple  cap  on  her  grey  hair  ;  the  light  brown  silk 
dress  that  Raisky  had  brought  from  St.  Petersburg 
suited  her  well,  and  round  her  neck  she  wore  beautiful 
old  lace  ;  the  Turkish  shawl  lay  on  the  arm-chair  in 
her  room. 

Now  she  was  preparing  to  drive  to  Mass,  and  walked 
slowly  up  and  down  the  hall  with  crossed  hands, 
awaiting  the  assembly  of  the  household.  She  hardly 
noticed  the  bustle  around  her,  as  the  servants  went 
hither  and  thither,  sweeping  the  carpets,  cleaning  the 
lamps,  dusting  the  mirrors,  and  taking  the  covers 
from  the  furniture.  She  went  first  to  one  window  and 
then  to  the  other,  looking  out  meditatively  on  the  road, 
the  garden  and  the  courtyards. 


232  THE    PRECIPICE 

Vikentev's  mother  was  dressed  in  pearl  grey  with 
dark  lace  trimmings.  Vikentev  himself  had  been  in 
his  dress  coat  and  white  gloves  from  eight  o'clock 
onwards. 

Tatiana  Markovna's  pride  and  joy  knew  no  bounds 
when  Marfinka  appeared,  radiating  gaiety  from  her 
bright  eyes.  While  she  slept  the  walls  of  her  two  rooms 
had  been  decorated  with  flowers  and  garlands.  She  was 
going  to  put  on  her  simple  blouse  when  she  woke, 
but  instead  there  lay  on  the  chair  by  her  bed  a  morning 
gown  of  lace  and  muslin  with  pink  ribbons.  She  had 
not  had  time  to  give  vent  to  her  admiration  when  she 
saw  on  two  other  chairs  two  lovely  dresses,  one  pink 
and  one  blue,  for  her  to  make  her  choice  for  the  gala 
day. 

She  jumped  up,  and  threw  on  her  new  morning 
gown  without  waiting  to  put  on  her  stockings,  and 
when  she  approached  her  mirror  she  found  a  new 
surprise  in  the  gifts  that  lay  on  her  toilet  table.  She 
did  not  know  which  to  look  at,  or  which  to  take 
up.  _ 

First  she  opened  a  lovely  rosewood  casket  which 
contained  a  complete  dressing  set,  flasks,  combs, 
brushes  and  endless  trifles  in  glass  and  silver,  with  a 
card  bearing  the  name  of  her  future  Mama.  Beside 
it  lay  cases  of  different  sizes.  She  threw  a  quick 
glance  in  the  mirror,  smoothed  back  her  abundant 
hair  from  her  eyes,  seized  all  the  cases  in  a  heap,  and 
sat  down  on  the  bed  to  look  at  them.  She  hesitated 
to  open  them,  and  finally  began  with  the  smallest, 
which  contained  an  emerald  ring,  which  she  hastily 
put  on  her  finger.  A  larger  case  held  earrings  which 
she  inserted  in  her  ears  and  admired  in  the  glass  from 
the  bed.  There  were  massive  gold  bracelets,  set  with 
rubies  and  diamonds,  which  she  also  put  on.  Last  of 
all  she  opened  the  largest  case,  and  looked  astonished 
and  dazzled  at  its  splendid  contents  :  a  chain  of 
strung  diamonds,  twenty-one  to  match  her  years. 
The  accompanying  card  said  :  "  With  this  gift  I  confide 
to  you  another,  a  costly  one,  my  best  of  friends — 
myself.     Take  care  of  him.     Your  lover,  Vikentev." 


THE    PRECIPICE  233 

She  laughed,  looked  round,  kissed  the  card,  blushed, 
sprang  from  the  bed  and  laid  the  case  in  her  cupboard, 
in  the  box  where  she  kept  her  bonbons.  There  was 
still  another  case  on  the  table,  containing  Raisky's 
gift  of  a  watch,  whose  enamel  cover  bore  her  mono- 
gram, and  its  chain. 

She  looked  at  it  with  wide  eyes,  threw  another 
glance  at  the  other  gifts  and  the  garlanded  walls, 
then  threw  herself  on  a  chair  and  wept  hot  tears  of 
joy.  "  Oh,  God  I  "  she  sobbed  happily.  "  Why  does 
everyone  love  me  so.  I  do  no  good  to  anyone,  and 
never  shall." 

And  so,  undressed,  without  shoes  and  stockings, 
but  adorned  with  rings,  bracelets,  diamond  earrings, 
she  tearfully  sought  her  aunt,  who  caressed  and  kissed 
her  darling  when  she  heard  the  cause  of  her  tears. 

"  God  loves  3^ou,  Marfinka,  because  you  love  others, 
because  all  who  see  you  are  infected  by  your 
happiness." 

Marfinka  dried  her  tears. 

"  Nikolai  Andreevich  loves  me,  but  he  is  my  fiance  ; 
so  does  his  Mama,  but  so  does  my  cousin,  Boris 
Pavlovich,  and  what  am  I  to  him  ?  " 

"  The  same  as  you  are  to  everyone.  No  one  can 
look  at  you  and  not  be  happy  ;  you  are  modest,  pure 
and  good,  obedient  to  your  Grandmother.  Spend- 
thrift," she  murmured  in  an  aside,  to  hide  her  pleasure. 
"  Such  a  costly  gift  !  You  shall  hear  of  this, 
Borushka  !  " 

"  Grandmother  !  As  if  Boris  Pavlovich  could  have 
guessed  it.  I  have  wanted  a  little  enamelled  watch 
like  this  for  a  long  time." 

"  You  haven't  asked  your  Grandmother  why  she 
gives  you  nothing  ?  " 

Marfinka  shut  her  mouth  with  a  kiss. 

"  Grandmother,"  she  said,  "  love  me  always,  if 
you  want  to  make  me  happy." 

"  With  my  love  I  will  give  you  my  enduring 
gift,"  she  said,  making  the  sign  of  the  cross  over 
Marfinka.  "  So  that  you  shall  not  forget  my  blessing," 
she  went  on,  feeling  in  her  pocket 


234  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  You  have  given  me  two  dresses,  Grandmother, 
but  who  decorated  my  room  so  magnificently  ?  " 

"  Your  fiance  and  PauHna  Karpovna  sent  the 
things  yesterday,  and  kept  them  out  of  your  sight. 
VassiHssa  and  Pashutka  hung  the  garlands  up  at 
daybreak.  The  dresses  are  part  of  your  trousseau, 
and  there  are  more  to  follow."  Then  taking  from 
its  case  a  gold  cross  with  four  large  diamonds  she 
hung  it  round  the  girl's  neck,  and  gave  her  a  plain, 
simple  bracelet  with  the  inscription  :  "  From  Grand- 
mother to  her  Grandchild,"  and  with  the  name  and 
the  date. 

Marfinka  kissed  her  aunt's  hand,  and  nearly  wept 
once  more. 

"  All  that  Grandmother  has,  and  she  has  many 
things,  will  be  divided  between  you  and  Veroshka. 
Now  make  haste." 

"  How  lovely  you  are  to-day,  Grandmother.  Cousin 
is  right.     Tiet  Nikonich  will  fall  in  love  with  you." 

"  Nonsense,  chatterbox.  Go  to  Veroshka,  and  tell 
her  not  to  be  late  for  Mass.  I  would  have  gone  myself, 
but  am  afraid  of  the  steps." 

"  Directl}^  Grandmother,"  cried  Marfinka,  and 
hastened  to  change  her  dress. 

Vera  lay  unconscious  for  half  an  hour  before  she 
came  to  herself.  The  cold  wind  that  streamed 
through  the  open  window  fell  on  her  face,  and  she  sat 
up  to  look  around  her.  Then  she  rose,  shut  the 
window,  walked  unsteadily  to  the  bed,  sank  down  on 
it,  and  drawing  the  cover  over  herself,  lay  motion- 
less. 

Overpowered  with  weakness  she  fell  into  a  deep  sleep, 
with  her  hair  loose  over  the  pillow.  She  slept  heavily 
for  about  three  hours  until  she  was  awakened  by  the 
noise  in  the  courtyard,  the  many  voices,  the  creaking 
of  wheels  and  the  sound  of  bells.  She  opened  her 
eyes,  looked  round,  and  listened. 

There  was  a  light  knock  at  the  door,  but  Vera  did 
not  stir.  There  was  a  louder  knock,  but  she  remained 
motionless.  At  the  third  she  got  up,  glanced  in 
the  glass,  and  was  terrified  by  the  sight  of  her  own 


THE    PRECIPICE  235 

face.  She  pushed  her  hair  into  order,  threw  a  shawl 
over  her  shoulders,  picked  up  Marfinka's  bouquet 
from  the  floor,  and  laid  it  on  the  table.  There  was 
another  knock  and  she  opened  the  door.  Marfinka, 
gay  and  lovely,  gleaming  like  a  rambow  in  her  pretty 
clothes,  flew  into  the  room.  When  she  saw  her  sister 
she  stood  still  in  amazement. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Veroshka  ?  Aren't 
you  well  ?  " 

"  Not  quite.     I  offer  you  my  congratulations." 

The  sisters  kissed  one  another. 

"  How  lovely  you  are,  and  how  beautifully  dressed  !  " 
said  Vera,  making  a  faint  attempt  to  smile.  Her  lips 
framed  one,  but  her  eyes  were  like  the  eyes  of  a  corpse 
that  no  one  has  remembered  to  close.  But  she  felt 
she  must  control  herself,  and  hastened  to  present 
Marfinka  with  the  bouquet. 

"  What  a  lovely  bouquet  I  And  what  is  this  ?  " 
asked  Marfinka  as  she  felt  a  hard  substance,  and 
discovered  the  holder  set  with  her  name  and  the 
pearls.  "  You,  too,  Veroshka  !  How  is  it  you  all 
love  me  so  ?  I  love  you  all,  how  I  love  you  !  But 
how  and  when  you  found  out  that  I  did,  I  cannot 
think." 

Vera  was  not  capable  of  answering,  but  she  caressed 
Marfinka's  shoulder  affectionately. 

"  I  must  sit  down,"  she  said.  "  I  have  slept  badly 
through  the  night." 

"  Grandmother  calls  you  to  Mass." 

"  I  cannot,  darling.  Tell  her  I  am  unwell,  and 
cannot  leave  the  house  to-day." 

"  What  !  you  are  not  coming  ?  " 

"  I  shall  stay  in  bed.  Perhaps  I  caught  cold  yester- 
day.     Tell  Grandmother." 

"  We  will  come  to  you." 

"  You  would  only  disturb  me." 

"  Then  we  shall  send  everything  over.  Ah,  Veroshka, 
people  have  sent  me  so  many  presents,  and  flowers 
and  bonbons.  I  must  show  them  to  you,"  and  she 
ran  over  a  list  of  them. 


236  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  Yes,  show  me  everything ;  perhaps  I  will 
come  later,"  said  Vera  absently. 

"  Another  bouquet  ?  "  asked  Marfinka,  pointing 
to  the  one  that  lay  on  the  floor.  "  For  whom  ?  How 
lovely  !  " 

"  For  you  too,"  said  Vera,  turning  paler.  She 
picked  a  ribbon  hastily  from  a  drawer  and  fastened 
the  bouquet  with  it.  Then  she  kissed  her  sister,  and 
sank  down  on  the  divan. 

"  You  are  really  ill.  How  pale  you  are  !  Shall 
I  tell  Grandmother,  and  let  her  send  for  the  doctor  ? 
How  sad  that  it  should  be  on  my  birthday.  The  day 
is  spoiled  for  me  1  " 

"  It  will  pass.  Don't  say  a  word  to  Grandmother. 
Don't  frighten  her.  Leave  me  now,  for  I  must 
rest." 

At  last  Marfinka  went.  Vera  shut  the  door  after 
her,  and  lay  down  on  the  divan. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

When  Raisky  returned  to  his  room  at  daybreak 
and  looked  in  the  mirror,  he  hardly  recognised  himself. 
He  felt  chilly,  and  sent  Marina  for  a  glass  of  wine 
which  he  drank  before  he  threw  himself  on  his  bed. 
Overcome  by  moral  and  physical  exhaustion  he  slept 
as  if  he  had  thrown  himself  into  the  arms  of  a  friend 
and  had  confided  his  trouble  to  him.  Sleep  did  him 
the  service  of  a  friend,  for  it  carried  him  far  from 
Vera,  from  Malinovka,  from  the  precipice,  from  the 
fantastic  vision  of  last  night.  When  the  ringing  of 
many  bells  awoke  him  he  lay  for  several  minutes 
under  the  soothing  influence  of  the  physical  rest, 
which  built  a  rampart  between  him  and  yesterday. 
There  was  no  agony  in  his  awakening  moments. 
But  soon  memory  revived,  and  his  face  wore  an 
expression  more  terrible  than  in  the  worst  moments 
of    yesterday.      A    pain    different    from    yesterday's. 


THE    PRECIPICE  237 

a  new  devil  had  hurled  itself  upon  him.  He  seized 
one  piece  of  clothing  after  another  and  dressed 
as  hastily  and  nervously  as  Vera  had  done  as  she 
prepared  to  go  to  the  precipice. 

He  rang  for  Egorka,  from  whom  he  learnt  that 
everybody  except  Vera,  who  was  not  well,  had  driven 
to  Mass.  In  wild  agitation  he  dashed  across  to  the 
old  house. 

There  was  no  response  when  he  knocked  at  Vera's 
door.  He  opened  it  cautiously,  and  stole  in  like  a 
man  with  murderous  intent,  with  horror  imprinted 
on  his  features,  and  advanced  on  tiptoe,  trembling, 
deadly  pale,  with  swaying  steps  as  if  he  might  fall 
at  any  minute. 

Vera  lay  on  the  divan,  with  her  face  turned  away, 
her  hair  falling  down  almost  to  the  floor,  and  her 
slipper-clad  feet  hardly  covered  by  her  grey  skirt. 
She  tried  to  turn  round  when  she  heard  the  noise 
of  the  opening  door,  but  could  not. 

He  approached,  knelt  at  her  feet,  and  pressed  his  lips 
to  the  slipper  she  wore.  Suddenly  she  turned,  and 
stared  at  him  in  astonishment.  "  Is  it  comedy 
or  romance,  Boris  Pavlovich,"  she  asked  brusquely, 
turned  in  annoyance,  and  hid  her  foot  under  the 
skirt  which  she  straightened  quickly. 

"  No,  Vera,  tragedy,"  he  whispered  in  a  lifeless 
voice,  and  sat  down  on  the  chair  near  the  divan. 

The  tone  of  his  voice  moved  her  to  turn  and  look 
keenly  at  him,  and  her  eyes  opened  wide  with  astonish- 
ment. She  threw  aside  her  shawl,  and  rose,  she  had 
divined  in  Raisky's  face  the  presence  of  the  same 
deadly  suffering  that  she  herself  endured. 

"  What    is    your    trouble  ?     Are    you    unhappy  ? 
she  said,   laying  her  hand   on  his  shoulder.     In   the 
simple  word  and  in  the  tone  of  her  voice  there  were 
revealed  the  generous  qualities  of  a  woman,  sympathy, 
selflessness,  and  love. 

Keenly  touched  by  the  kindness  and  tenderness 
in  her  voice  he  looked  at  her  with  the  same  rapturous 
gratitude  which  she  had  worn  on  her  face  yesterday 
when   in   sclf-forgctfulness   he   had  helped   her  down 


238  THE    PRECIPICE 

the  precipice.  She  returned  generosity  with  generosity, 
just  as  yesterday  there  had  streamed  from  him  a 
gleam  of  one  of  the  highest  quaUties  of  the  human 
mind.  He  was  all  the  more  in  despair  over  what  he 
had  done,  and  wept  hot  tears.  He  hid  his  face  in 
his  hands  like  a  man  for  whom  all  is  lost. 

"  What  have  I  done  ?  I  have  insulted  you,  woman 
and  sister." 

"  Do  not  make  us  both  suffer,"  she  said  in  a  gentle, 
friendly  tone.     "  Spare  me  ;  you  see  how  I  am." 

He  tried  not  to  meet  her  eyes,  and  she  again  lay 
down  on  the  divan. 

"  What  a  blow  I  dealt  you,"  he  whispered  in  horror. 
"  You  see  my  punishment,  Vera  !  " 

"  Your  blow  gave  me  a  minute's  pain,  and  then  I 
understood  that  it  was  not  delivered  with  an  indifferent 
hand,  that  you  loved  me.  And  it  became  clear  to 
me  how  you^must  have  suffered  .  .  .  yesterday." 

"  Don't  justify  my  crime,  Vera.  A  knife  is  a  knife, 
and  I  aimed  a  knife  at  you." 

"  You  brought  me  to  myself.  I  was  as  if  I  slept, 
and  you,  Grandmother,  Marfinka  and  the  whole  house 
I  saw  as  if  in  a  dream." 

"  What  am  I  to  do.  Vera  ?  Fly  from  here  ?  In 
what  a  state  of  mind  I  should  leave  !  Let  me  endure 
my  penance  here,  and  be  reconciled,  as  far  as  is  possible, 
with  myself,  with  all  that  has  happened  here." 

"  Your  imagination  paints  what  was  only  a  fault 
as  a  crime.  Remember  your  condition  when  you 
did  it,  your  agitation  !  "  She  gave  him  her  hand,  and 
continued,  "  I  know  now  what  one  is  capable  of  doing 
in  the  fever  of  emotion." 

She  set  herself  to  calm  him  in  spite  of  her  own 
weariness. 

"  You  are  good.  Vera,  and,  womanlike,  judge  not 
with  your  brain,  but  with  your  heart." 

"  You  are  too  severe  with  yourself.  Another  would 
have  thought  himself  justified  after  all  the  jesting.  .  .  . 
You  remember  those  letters.  With  whatever  good 
intention  of  calming  your  agitation,  of  answering 
your  jest  with  jests,  it  was  malicious  mockery.     You 


THE    PRECIPICE  239 

suffered  more  from  those  letters  than  I  did  yester- 
day." 

"  Oh,  dear,  no  !  I  have  often  laughed  over  them, 
especially  when  you  asked  for  a  cloak,  a  rug,  and 
money  for  the  exile." 

"  What  money  ?  what  cloak  ?  what  exile  ?  "  she 
exclaimed  in  astonishment.     "  I  don't  understand." 

"  I  myself  had  suspicions,"  he  said,  his  face  clearing 
a  little.  "  I  could  not  believe  that  that  was  your 
idea."  And  in  a  few  words  he  told  her  the  contents 
of  the  two  letters. 

Her  lips  turned  white. 

"  Natasha  and  I  wrote  to  you  turn  and  turn  about 
in  the  same  handwriting,  amusing  little  letters  in  which 
we  tried  to  imitate  yours ;  that  is  all.  I  didn't  know 
anything  about  the  other  letters,"  she  whispered, 
turning  her  face  to  the  wall. 

Raisky  strode  up  and  down  in  thought,  while  Vera 
appeared  to  be  resting,  exhausted  by  the  conver- 
sation. 

"  Cousin,"  she  said  suddenly,  "  I  ask  your  help  in 
a  very  important  matter,  and  I  know  you  will  not 
refuse  me,"  A  glance  at  his  face  told  her  that  there 
was  nothing  she  could  not  ask  of  him.  "  While  I 
still  have  strength,  I  want  to  tell  you  the  whole  history 
of  this  year." 

"  Why  should  you  do  that  ?  I  will  not  and  I  ought 
not  to  know." 

"  Do  not  disturb  me,  Boris.  I  can  hardly  breathe 
and  time  is  precious.  I  will  tell  you  the  whole  story, 
and  you  must  repeat  it  to  our  Grandmother.  I  could 
not  do  it,"  she  said.  "  My  tongue  would  not  say  the 
words — I  would  rather  die." 

He  looked  at  her  with  an  expression  of  blank  terror. 
"  But  why  should  Grandmother  be  told  ?  Think  of 
the  consequences.  Would  it  not  be  better  to  keep 
her  in  ignorance  ?  " 

"  No,  the  burden  must  be  borne.  It  is  possible 
that  Grandmother  and  I  will  both  die  of  it,  or  we 
shall  lose  our  senses,  but  I  will  not  deceive  her.  She 
ought  to  have  known  it  long  ago,  but  I  hoped  to  be 


240  THE    PRECIPICE 

able  to  tell  her  another  story,  and  therefore  was 
silent." 

"  To  tell  her  everything,  even  of  yesterday  evening," 
he  asked  in  a  low  tone.     "  And  the  name  also  ?  " 

She  nodded  almost  imperceptibly  in  assent.  Then 
she  made  him  sit  down  on  the  divan  beside  her,  and  in 
low,  broken  sentences  told  the  story  of  her  relations 
with  Mark.  When  she  had  finished  she  wrapped 
herself,  shivering  with  cold,  in  her  shawl.  He  rose 
from  his  seat.  Both  were  silent,  each  of  them  in 
terror,  she  as  she  thought  of  her  grandmother,  he 
as  he  thought  of  them  both.  Before  him  lay  the 
prospect  of  having  to  deal  Tatiana  Markovna  one 
thrust  after  another,  and  that  not  in  the  heat  of 
passion,  or  in  an  access  of  blind  revenge,  but  in  the 
consciousness  of  a  most  painful  duty.  It  might  be 
as  she  said  an  important  service,  but  it  was  certainly 
a  terrible  commission. 

"  When  shall  I  tell  her  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  As  soon  as  possible,  for  I  shall  suffer  so  long  as  I 
know  she  is  in  ignorance,  and  now,  give  me  the  eau-de- 
Cologne  from  the  dressing-table,  and  leave  me  alone." 

"  It  would  not  do  to  tell  Grandmother  to-day  when 
the  house  is  full  of  guests,  but  to-morrow  ..."  said 
Raisky. 

"  How  shall  I  survive  it  ?  But  till  to-morrow, 
calm  her  by  some  means  or  other,  so  that  she  has  no 
suspicion  and  sends  no  one  here." 

She  closed  her  eyes  in  a  longing  for  impenetrable 
night,  for  rest  without  an  awakening  ;  she  would  like 
to  have  been  turned  into  a  thing  of  stone  so  that  she 
could  neither  think  nor  feel. 

When  he  left  her  he  was  weighed  down  with  a 
greater  weight  of  fear  than  that  which  he  had  brought 
to  the  interview.  Vera  rose  as  soon  as  he  left  her, 
closed  the  door,  and  lay  down  again.  She  had  found 
consolation  and  help  in  Raisky 's  friendship,  his 
sympathy  and  devotion,  as  a  drowning  man  rises  to  the 
surface  for  a  moment,  but  as  soon  as  he  was  gone 
she  fell  back  deeper  into  the  depths.  She  told  herself 
in    despair    that    life    was    over.     Before    her   there 


THE    PRECIPICE  241 

•  L-tched  the  bare  steppe  ;  there  was  no  longer  for 
her  a  family,  nor  anything  on  which  a  woman's  life 
depends.  She  would  have  to  stand  before  her  amit, 
to  look  her  in  the  eyes,  and  to  tell  her  how  she  had 
recompensed  her  love  and  care.  Suddenly  she  heard 
steps  and  her  aunt's  voice.  Pale  and  motionless, 
as  if  she  had  lost  the  use  of  hands  and  feet,  she  listened 
to  the  light  tap  at  the  door.  I  will  not  get  up,  I  can- 
not, she  thought.  But  when  the  knock  was  repeated, 
she  sprang  up  with  a  strength  which  astonished  herself, 
dried  her  eyes  and  went  smiling  to  meet  her  aunt. 

When  Tatiana  Markovna  had  heard  from  Marfinka 
that  Vera  was  ill,  and  would  remain  in  her  room 
ail  day,  she  had  come  herself  to  inquire  ;  she  glanced 
at  Vera  and  sat  down  on  the  divan. 

"  The  service  has  tired  me  so  that  I  could  hardly 
walk  up  the  steps.  What's  the  matter  with  you. 
Vera  ?  "  she  continued,  looking  keenly  at  her. 

"  I  congratulate  Marfinka  on  her  birthday,"  said 
Vera,  in  the  voice  of  a  little  girl  who  has  learnt  her 
speech  by  heart.  She  kissed  her  grandmother's  hand 
and  wondered  how  she  had  managed  to  bring  the 
words  over  her  lips.  "  I  got  wet  feet  yesterday,  and 
have  a  headache."  She  tried  to  smile,  but  there  was 
no  smile  on  her  lips. 

"  You  must  rub  your  feet  with  spirit,"  remarked 
Tatiana  Markovna,  who  had  noticed  the  strained  voice 
ai  d  the  unnatural  smile,  and  guessed  a  lack  of  frank- 
ness. "  Are  you  coming  to  be  with  us,  Vera  ?  Don't 
force  yourself  to  do  so,  and  so  make  yourself  worse," 
she  continued,  seeing  that  Vera  was  incapable  of 
answering. 

Vera  was  all  the  more  frightened  by  her  aunt's 
consideration  for  her.  Her  conscience  stirred,  and 
she  felt  that  Tatiana  Markovna  must  already  know 
all,  and  that  her  confession  would  come  too  late. 
She  was  on  the  point  of  falling  on  her  breast,  and 
making  her  confession  there  and  then,  but  her  strength 
failed  her. 

"  Excuse  me,  Grandmother,  from  dinner  ;  perhaps 
I  will  come  over  in  the  afternoon." 


242  THE    PRECIPICE  ' 

"  As  you  like.     I  will  send  your  dinner  across." 

"  Thank  you,  I  am  already  quite  hungry,"  said  | 
Vera  quickly,  without  knowing  what  she  said.  | 

Tatiana  Markovna  kissed  her,  and  stroked  her  | 
hair,  remarking  casually  that  one  of  the  maids  should  i 
come  and  do  her  room,  as  she  might  have  a  visitor.  I 

Tatiana   Markovna   returned   sadly   to   the   house.  | 
She  was,   indeed,  politely  attentive  to  her  guests  as  { 
she    always    was,    but    Raisky    noticed    immediately 
that  something  was  wrong  with  her  after  her  visit  i 
to  Vera.     She  found  it  hard  to  restrain  her  emotion,  I 
hardly  touched  the  food,  did  not  even  look  round  i 
when  Petrushka  smashed  a  pile  of  plates,  and  more  \ 
than  once  broke  off  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence.     In  » 
the  afternoon  as  the  guests  took  coffee  on  the  broad  ' 
terrace    in    the    mild    September    sunshine,    Tatiana  i 
Markovna  moved  among  her  guests  as  if  she  were 
hardly  aware  of  them.     Raisky  wore  a  gloomy  air 
and  had  eyes  for  no  one  but  his  aunt.     "  Something  is 
wrong  with  Vera,"  she  whispered  to  him.     "  She  is 
in  trouble.     Have  you  seen  her  ?  " 

"  No,"  he  said.  But  his  aunt  looked  at  him  as  if 
she  doubted  what  he  said. 

Paulina  Karpovna  had  not  come.  She  had  sent 
word  that  she  was  ill,  and  the  messenger  brought 
flowers  and  plants  for  Marfinka.  In  order  to  explain 
the  scene  of  the  day  before,  and  to  find  out  whether 
she  had  guessed  anything,  Raisky  had  paid  a  visit 
in  the  morning  to  Paulina  Karpovna.  She  received 
him  with  a  pretence  of  being  offended,  but  with  hardly 
disguised  satisfaction.  His  excuse  was  that  he  had 
dined  with  friends  that  night  and  had  had  a  glass  too 
much.  He  begged  for  forgiveness  which  was  accorded 
with  a  smile,  all  which  did  not  prevent  Paulina 
Karpovna  from  recounting  to  all  her  acquaintance  her 
love  scene. 

Tushin  came  to  dinner,  and  brought  Marfinka  a 
lovely  pony  to  ride.  He  asked  for  Vera,  and  was 
plainly  disturbed  when  he  heard  of  the  indisposition 
which  prevented  her  from  coming  to  dinner.  Tatiana 
Markovna    observed    him,    wondering    why    Vera's 


THE    PRECIPICE  243 

absence  had  such  a  remarkable  effect  on  him,  though 
this  had  often  been  the  case  before  without  exciting 
any  surprise  on  her  part.  She  could  not  keep  out  of 
her  head  anxiety  as  to  what  change  had  come  over 
\"era  since  yesterday  evening.  She  had  had  a  little 
quarrel  with  Tiet  Nikonich,  and  had  scolded  him  for 
having  brought  Marfinka  the  Sevres  mirror.  After- 
wards she  was  closeted  with  him  for  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  in  her  sitting-room,  and  he  emerged  from  the 
interview  looking  serious.  He  shifted  his  foot  less, 
and  even  when  he  was  talking  to  ladies  his  seiious 
inquiring  glance  would  wander  to  Raisky  or  Tushin. 

Up  till  this  time  Tatiana  Markovna  had  been  so 
gay.  Her  one  anxiety,  and  at  the  moment  the  only 
one  perhaps,  had  been  the  celebration  of  Vera's  name- 
day  a  fortnight  ahead,  she  would  have  liked  to  have 
celebrated  it  with  the  same  magnificence  as  Marfinka's 
birthday,  although  Vera  had  roundly  declared  that  on 
that  day  she  meant  to  go  on  a  visit  to  Anna  Ivanovna 
Tushin,  or  to  her  friend  Natasha.  But  how  Tatiana 
Markovna  had  changed  since  Mass,  As  she 
talked  with  her  guests  she  was  thinking  only  of 
Vera,  and  gave  absent-minded  answers.  The  excuse 
of  a  cold  had  not  deceived  her,  and  as  she  had  touched 
Vera's  brow  on  leaving  her,  she  had  realised  that  a 
cold  could  be  nothing  but  a  pretext.  She  remembered 
that  Vera  and  Raisky  had  vanished  in  the  afternoon 
and  that  neither  had  appeared  at  supper.  She  was 
constantly  watching  Raisky,  who  sought  to  avoid 
her  glance,  thereby  only  arousing  her  suspicions  the 
more. 

Then  Vera  herself  unexpectedly  appeared  amongst 
the  guests,  wearing  a  warm  mantilla  over  her  light 
dress  and  a  wrap  round  her  throat.  Raisky  was  so 
astonished  that  he  looked  at  her  as  if  she  were  an 
apparition.  A  few  hours  ago  she  had  been  almost  too 
exhausted  to  speak,  and  now  here  she  was  in  person. 
He  wondered  where  women  found  their  strength. 
Vera  went  round  speaking  to  the  guests,  looked  at 
Marfinka's  presents,  and  ate,  to  quench  her  thirst, 
as  she  said,  a  slice  of  water  melon.     Tatiana  Markovna 


244  THE    PRECIPICE 

was  to  some  extent  relieved  to  see  Vera,  but  it  dis- 
turbed her  to  notice  that  Raisky's  face  had  changed. 
For  the  first  time  in  her  Hfe  she  cursed  her  guests ; 
they  were  just  sitting  down  to  cards,  then  there 
would  be  tea,  and  then  supper,  and  Vikentev  was 
not  going  until  to-morrow  morning. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

Raisky  found  himself  between  two  fires.  On  the  one 
hand,  Tatiana  Markovna  looked  at  him  as  much  as  to 
say  that  he  probably  knew  what  was  the  matter  with 
Vera,  while  Vera's  despairing  glance  betrayed  her 
anxiety  for  the  moment  of  her  confession.  He  himself 
would  have  liked  to  have  sunk  into  the  earth.  Tushin 
looked  in  an  extraordinary  manner  at  Vera,  as  both 
Tatiana  Markovna  and  Raisky,  but  most  of  all  Vera 
herself,  noticed.  She  was  terrified,  and  asked  herself 
whether  he  had  heard  any  rumour.  He  esteemed  her 
£0  highly,  thought  her  the  noblest  woman  in  the 
world,  and,  if  she  were  silent,  she  would  be  accepting 
his  esteem  on  false  premisses.  He,  too,  would  have 
to  be  told,  she  thought.  She  exchanged  greetings  w4tb 
him  without  meeting  his  eyes  ;  and  he  looked  strangely 
at  her,  timidly  and  sympathetically.  Vera  told  herself 
that  she  must  know  what  was  in  his  mmd,  that  if  he 
looked  at  her  again  like  that  she  would  collapse. 
He  did  look  at  her  again,  and  she  could  endure  no 
more  and  left  the  company.  Before  she  went  she 
signed  secretly  to  Tushin  to  follow  her. 

"  I  cannot  receive  you  in  the  old  house,"  she  said, 
"  Come  into  the  avenue." 

"  Is  it  not  too  damp,  as  you  are  not  well  ?  " 

"  That  does  not  matter,"  she  said. 

He  looked  at  his  Vv'atch  and  said  that  he  would 
be  going  in  an  hour.  After  giving  orders  to  have  his 
horses  taken  out  of  the  stable  and  brought  into  the 
yard,  he  picked  up  his  silver-handled  whip  and  with 


THE    PRECIPICE  245 

lis  cloak  on  his  arm  followed  Vera  into  the  avenue. 
'  I  will  not  beat  about  the  bush,"  he  said.  "  What 
is  the  matter  with  you  to-day  ?  You  have  something 
11  your  mind." 

She  wrapped  her  face  in  her  mantilla  as  she  spoke, 

id  her  shoulders  shivered  as  if  with  cold.  She  dare 
lot  raise  her  eyes  to  him  as  he  strode  silently  beside 
'■  cr. 

"  But  you  are  ill,  Vera  Vassilievna.  I  had  better 
ilk  to  you  another  time.  You  were  not  wrong  in 
s  thinking  I  had  something  to  say  to  you." 

"  No,  Ivan  Ivanovich,  let  it  be  to-day.  I  want  to 
know  what  you  have  to  say  to  me.  I  myself  wanted 
to  talk  to  you,  but  perhaps  it  is  too  late  for  what  I 
have  to  say.  Do  you  speak,"  she  said,  wondering 
painfully  how  and  where  he  could  have  learnt  her 
secret. 

"  I  came  here  to-day.  .  .  "  he  said  as  they  sat  down 
on  the  bench. 

"  What  have  you  to  say  to  me  ?  Speak  !  "  she 
interrupted. 

"  How  can  I  say  it  to  you  now,  Vera  Vassilievna  ?  " 
said  Tushin  springing  to  his  feet. 

"  Do  not  make  me  suffer,"  she  murmured. 

"  I  love  you.  .  .  ." 

"  Yes,  I  know  it,"  she  interrupted.  "  But  what 
have  you  heard  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  nothing,"  he  said,  looking  round  in 
amazement.  He  was  now  for  the  first  time  aware  of 
her  agitation,  and  his  heart  stood  still  with  delight. 
She  has  guessed  my  secret  and  shares  my  feelings, 
he  thought,  and  what  she  is  asking,  is  for  a  frank, 
brief  avowal.  "  You  are  so  noble,  so  beautiful,  Vera 
Vassilievna,  so  pure  ..."  An  exclamation  was 
wrung  from  her,  and  she  would  have  risen,  but  could 
not. 

"  You  mock  me,  you  mock  me,"  she  said,  raising 
her  hands   beseechingly. 

"  You  are  ill,  Vera  Vassilievna,"  he  said,  looking 
at  her  in  terror.  "  Forgive  me  for  having  spoken 
to  you  at  such  a  time." 


246  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  A  day  earlier  or  later  makes  no  difference.  Say 
what  you  have  to  say,  for  I  also  desire  to  tell  you  why 
I  have  brought  you  here." 

"  Is  it  really  true  ?  "  he  cried,  hardly  knowing  how 
to  contain  his  delight. 

"  What  is  true  ?  You  want  to  say  something  else, 
not  what  I  expected,"  she  said.  "  Speak,  and  do  not 
prolong  my  sufferings." 

"  I  love  you,"  he  repeated.  "  If  you  can  grant 
what  I  have  confessed  to  you  (and  I  am  not  worthy 
of  it),  if  your  love  is  not  given  elsewhere,  then  be  my 
forest  queen,  my  wife,  and  there  will  be  no  happier 
man  on  earth  than  I.  That  is  what  I  have  long  wished 
to  say  to  you  and  have  not  dared.  I  should  have  done 
it  on  your  nameday  but  I  could  no  longer  endure  the 
suspense,  and  have  come  to- day,  on  the  family  festival, 
on  your  sister's  birthday." 

"  Ivan  Ivanovich,"  she  moaned.  The  thought 
flashed  through  his  head  like  lightning  that  this  was  no 
expression  of  joy,  and  he  felt  his  hair  was  beginning 
to  stand  on  end.  He  sat  down  beside  her  and  said, 
"  What  is  wrong  with  3'ou,  Vera  Vassilievna  ?  You 
are  either  ill,  or  are  bearing  a  great  sorrow." 

"  Yes,  Ivan  Ivanovich  !     I  feel  that  I  shall  die." 

"  What  is  your  trouble  ?  For  God's  sake,  tell  me. 
You  said  that  you  had  something  to  confide  in  me, 
which  means  that  I  must  be  necessary  to  you  ;  there 
is  nothing  I  would  not  do  for  you.  You  have  only  to 
command  me.     Forgive  me  my  too  hasty  speech." 

"  You,  too,  my  poor  Ivan  ivanovich  !  I  can  find 
neither  prayers  nor  tears,  nor  is  there  any  guidance  or 
help  for  me  anywhere." 

"  What  words  of  despair  are  these.  Vera 
Vassilievna  ?  " 

"  Do  you  know  whom  you  love  ?  " 

He  threw  his  cloak  on  the  bench,  and  wiped  the 
sweat  from  his  brow.  Her  words  told  him  that  his 
hopes  were  ruined,  that  her  love  was  given  elsewhere. 
He  drew  a  deep  breath,  and  sat  motionless,  awaiting 
her  further  explanations. 

"  My  poor  friend,"  she  said,  taking  his  hand.     The 


THE    PRECIPICE  247 

simple  words  filled  him  with  new  sorrow  ;  he  knew 
that  he  was  in  fact  to  be  pitied. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  whispered.  "  Forgive  me  ...  I 
did  not  know,  Vera  Vassilievna  ...  I  am  a  fool.  .  .  . 
Please  forget  my  declaration.  But  I  should  like  to 
help  you,  since  you  say  yourself  you  rely  on  me  for  a 
I  service.  I  thank  you  for  holding  me  worthy  of  that. 
You  stand  so  high  above  me  ;  I  always  feel  that  you 
stand  so  high,  Vera  Vassilievna." 

"  My  poor  Ivan  Ivanovich,  I  have  fallen  from  those 
I  heights,  and  no  human  power  can  reinstate  me,"  she 
'  said,  as  she  led  him  to  the  edge  of  the  precipice. 

"  Do  you  know  this  place  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes,  a  suicide  is  buried  there." 

"  There,  in  the  depths  below  the  precipice,  your 
'  pure  '  Vera  also  lies  buried,"  she  said  with  the  decision 
of  despair. 

"  What  are  you  saying  ?  I  don't  understand. 
Enlighten  me,  Vera  Vassilievna." 

Summoning  all  her  strength  she  bent  her  head  and 
whispered  a  few  words  to  him,  then  returned,  and 
sank  down  on  the  bench.  Tushin  turned  pale,  swayed, 
lost  his  balance,  and  sat  down  beside  her.  Even  in  the 
dim  light  Vera  noticed  his  pallor. 

"  And  I  thought,"  he  said,  with  a  strange  smile, 
as  if  he  were  ashamed  of  his  weakness,  rising  to  his 
feet  with  difficulty,  "  that  only  a  bear  was  strong 
enough  to  knock  me  over."  Then  he  stooped  to  her 
and  whispered,  "  Who  ?  " 

The  question  sent  a  shudder  through  her,  but  she 
answered  quickly  : 

"  Mark  Volokov." 

His  face  twitched  ominously.  Then  he  pressed  his 
whip  over  his  knee  so  that  it  split  in  pieces,  which  he 
hurled  away  from  him. 

"  So  it  will  end  with  him  too,"  he  shouted.  As  he 
stood  trembling  before  her,  stooping  forward,  with 
wild  eyes,  he  was  like  an  animal  ready  to  spring  on 
the  enemy.  "  Is  he  there  now  ?  "  he  cried,  pointing 
with  a  violent  gesture  in  the  direction  of  the 
precipice. 


248  THE    PRECIPICE 

She  looked  at  him  as  if  he  were  a  dangerous  animal, 
as  he  stood  there,  breathing  heavily  ;  then  she  rose 
and  took  refuge  behind  the  bench. 

"  I  am  afraid,  Ivan  Ivanovich  !  Spare  me  I  Go  !  " 
she  exclaimed,  warding  him  off  with  her  arms. 

"  First  I  will  kill  him,  and  then  I  will  go." 

"  Are  5^ou  going  to  do  this  for  my  sake,  for  my  peace 
of  mind  or  for  your  own  sake  ?  " 

He  kept  silence,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground,  and 
then  began  to  walk  about  in  great  strides.  "  What 
should  I  do  ?  "  he  said,  still  trembling  with  agitation. 
"  Tell  me.  Vera  Vassilievna." 

"  First  of  all,  calm  yourself,  and  explain  to  me  why 
you  wish  to  kill  him  and  whether  I  desire  it."     A 

"  He  is  your  enemy,  consequently  also  mine." 

"  Does  one  kill  one's  enemies  ?  " 

He  bent  his  head  and  seeing  the  pieces  of  the  whip 
lying  on  the  ground  he  picked  them  up  as  if  he  were 
ashamed,  and  put  them  in  his  pocket. 

"  I  do  not  accuse  him.  I  alone  bear  the  blame,  and 
he  has  justification,"  she  said  with  such  bitter  misery 
that  Tushin  took  her  hand. 

"  Vera  Vassilievna,"  he  said,  "  you  are  suffering 
horribly.  I  do  not  understand,"  he  went  on,  looking 
at  her  with  sympathy  and  admiration,  "  what  you 
mean  by  saying  that  he  has  justification,  and  that  you 
bring  no  accusation  against  him.  If  that's  the  case, 
why  did  you  wish  to  speak  to  me  and  call  me  here  into 
the  avenue  ?  " 

"  Because  I  wanted  you  to  know  the  whole  truth." 

"  Don't  leave  me  in  the  dark,  Vera  Vassilievna. 
You  must  have  had  some  reason  for  confiding  your 
secret  to  me." 

"  You  looked  at  me  so  strangely  to-day  that  I  could 
not  understand  your  meaning,  and  thought  you  must 
already  be  informed  of  all  that  had  happened  and 
could  not  rest  until  I  knew  what  was  in  your  mind. 
I  was  too  hasty,  but  it  comes  to  the  same  thing,  for 
sooner  or  later  I  should  have  told  you.  Sit  down,  and 
hear  what  I  have  to  say,  and  then  have  done  with  me." 
She  explained  the  situation  to  him  in  a  few  words. 


THE    PRECIPICE  249 

"  So  you  forgive  him,"  he  asked,  after  a  moment's 
thought. 

"  Forgive  him,  of  course.  I  tell  you  that  I  alone 
am  guilty." 

"  Have  you  separated  from  him,  or  do  you  hope  for 
his  return  ?  " 

"  There  is  nothing  whatever  In  common  between 
us,  and  we  shall  never  see  one  another  again." 

"  Now,  I  understand  a  little,  for  the  first  time,  but 
still  not  everything,"  said  Tushin,  sighing  bitterly. 
"  I  thought  you  had  been  vulgarly  betrayed,  and,  since 
you  called  me  to  your  help,  I  imagined  that  the  time 
had  come  for  the  Bear  to  do  his  duty.  I  was  on  the 
point  of  rendering  you  the  service  of  a  Bear,  and  it 
was  for  that  reason  that  I  permitted  mj^self  to  ask 
boldly  'for  the  man's  name.  Forgive  me,  and  now 
tell  me  why  you  have  revealed  the  story  to  me." 

"  Because  I  was  not  willing  that  you  should  think 
better  of  me  than  I  deserve,  and  esteem  me  ..." 

"  But  how  would  you  accomplish  that  ?  I  shall 
not  cease  to  think  of  you  as  I  have  always  thought 
of  you,  and  I  cannot  do  otherwise  than  respect  you." 

A  gleam  of  pleasure  lighted  her  eyes,  only  to  be 
immediately  extinguished.  "  You  want  to  restore 
my  self-esteem,"  she  said.  "  because  you  are  good 
and  generous.  You  are  sorry  for  a  poor  unfortunate 
girl  and  want  to  raise  her  up  again.  I  understand  your 
generosity,  Ivan  Ivanovich,  but  I  will  have  none  of  it." 

"  Vera  Vassilievna,"  he  said,  kissing  her  hand. 
"  I  could  not  esteem  anybody  under  compulsion. 
If  I  give  anyone  a  greeting  in  the  street,  he  has  my 
esteem  ;  if  he  has  not  my  esteem,  I  pass  him  by.  I 
greet  you  as  before,  and  because  you  are  unhappy 
my  love  for  you  is  greater  than  oefore.  You  are 
enduring  a  great  sorrow,  as  I  am.  You  have  lost 
your  hopes  of  happiness,"  he  added  in  a  low,  melancholy 
tone.  "  If  you  had  kept  your  secret  from  me  and  I 
had  heard  it  by  chance,  even  so  mj'  esteem  for  you 
could  not  have  been  diminished.  For  there  is  no 
duty  laid  on  you  to  reveal  a  secret  which  belongs  to 
you  alone.     No  one  has  the  right  to  judge  you."     The 


250  THE    PRECIPICE 

last  words  were  spoken  in  a  trembling  voice  which 
made  it  clear  that  he  also  was  oppressed  by  the  secret, 
the  weight  of  which  he  desired  to  lighten  for  Vera. 

"  I  had  to  tell  you  to-day  when  you  made  your 
declaration  to  me.  I  felt  it  was  impossible  to  leave 
you  in  ignorance." 

"  You  might  very  well  have  answered  me  with  a 
categorical  '  No.'  But  since  you  do  me  the  honour. 
Vera  Vassilievna,  of  bestowing  your  particular  friend- 
ship on  me,  you  might  have  gilded  your  '  No  '  by 
saying  that  you  loved  another.  That  would  have  been 
sufficient  for  me,  for  I  should  never  have  asked  you 
who,  and  your  secret  would,  without  doubt,  have 
remained  your  own."  He  pointed  to  the  precipice, 
and  collecting  his  whole  strength  whispered,  "  A  mis- 
fortune. ..."  Although  he  tried  with  all  his  might 
not  to  let  her  see  how  disturbed  he  was,  he  was  hardly 
able  to  speak  clearly.  "  A  misfortune,"  he  repeated. 
"  You  say  that  he  has  justification,  that  the  guilt  is 
yours  ;  if  that  is  so,  where  does  justice  lie  ?  " 

"  I  told  you,  Ivan  Ivanovich,  that  my  confession 
was  not  necessary  for  your  sake,  but  for  mine.  You 
know  how  I  esteem  your  friendship,  and  it  would 
have  caused  me  unspeakable  pain  to  deceive  you. 
Even  now,  when  I  have  hidden  nothing  from  you,  I 
cannot  look  you  in  the  eyes."  Tears  stifled  her  voice, 
and  it  was  with  difficulty  that  Tushin  held  back  his 
own  tears  ;  he  stooped  and  kissed  her  hand  once 
more. 

"  Thanks,  a  thousand  thanks.  Vera  Vassilievna. 
I  see  that  an  affection  for  another  has  no  power  to 
lessen  your  friendship  for  me,  and  that  is  a  wonderful 
consolation." 

"  Ivan  Ivanovich,  if  I  could  only  cut  this  year  out 
of  my  life." 

"  A  speedy  forgetfulness,"  he  said,  "  comes  to  the 
same  thing." 

"  How  can  I  forget,  and  where  can  I  find  the  strength 
to  endure  its  memory  ?  " 

"  You  will  find  strength  in  friendship,  and  I  am 
one  of  your  friends." 


THE    PRECIPICE  251 

She  breathed  another  air  for  the  moment,  conscious 
that  there  was  beside  her  a  tower  of  strength,  under 
whose  shadow  her  passion  and  her  pain  were  alleviated. 
"  I  believe  in  your  friendship,  Ivan  Ivanovich,  and 
thank  you  for  it,"  she  said,  drying  her  tears.  "  I 
already  feel  calmer,  and  should  feel  still  calmer  if 
Grandmother.  ..." 

"  She  does  not  yet  know  anything  of  this  ?  "  he 
asked,  but  broke  off  immediately  in  the  consciousness 
that  his  question  involved  a  reproach. 

"  She  has  guests  to-day  and  could  not  possibly  be 
told,  but  to-morrow  she  shall  learn  all.  Farewell, 
Ivan  Ivanovich,  my  head  aches,  and  I  am  going 
back  to  the  house  to  lie  down."  Tushin  looked 
at  Vera,  asking  himself  how  any  man  could  be  such  a 
blind  fool  as  Volokov.  Or  is  he  merely  a  beast,  he 
thought  to  himself  in  impotent  rage.  He  pulled 
himself  together,  however,  and  asked  her  if  she  had 
any  instructions  for  him. 

"  Please  ask  Natasha,"  she  said,  "  to  come  over 
to  me  to-morrow  or  the  next  day." 

"  And  may  I  come  one  day  next  week  to  inquire 
whether  you  are  better  ?  " 

"  Do  not  be  anxious,  Ivan  Ivanovich.  And  now 
good-bye,  for  I  can  hardly  stand." 

When  he  left  her,  he  drove  his  horses  so  wildly 
down  the  steep  hill  that  he  himself  was  in  danger  of 
being  hurled  to  the  bottom  of  the  precipice.  When 
he  put  his  hand  out  as  usual  for  his  whip,  it  was  not 
there,  and  he  remembered  that  he  had  broken  it, 
and  threw  away  the  useless  pieces  on  the  road.  In 
spite  of  his  mad  haste  he  reached  the  Volga  too  late 
for  the  ferry.  He  had  to  stay  in  the  town  with 
a  friend,  and  drove  next  morning  to  his  home  in  the 
forest. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

In  Tatiana  Markovna's  house,  servants,  cooks  and 
coachmen  were  all  astir,  and  at  a  very  early  hour  in 
the  morning  were  already  drunk.  The  mistress  of 
the  house  herself  was  unusually  silent  and  sad  when 
she  let  Marfinka  go  with  her  future  mother-in-law. 
She  had  no  instructions  or  advice  to  give,  and  hardly 
listened  to  Marfinka's  questions  about  what  she  ought 
to  take  with  her.  "  What  you  like,"  she  said  absently, 
and  gave  orders  to  Vassilissa  and  the  maid  who  was 
going  with  Mariinka  to  Kolchino  to  put  everything 
in  order  and  pack  up  what  was  necessary.  She  handed 
over  her  dear  child  to  Marfa  Egorovna's  charge,  at 
the  same  time  pointing  out  to  Marfinka's  fiance  that 
he  must  take  the  greatest  care  of  her,  and  that  in 
order  not  to  give  strangers  a  wrong  impression,  he 
must  be  more  dignified  and  must  not  chase  about  the 
garden  and  the  woods  with  her  as  he  did  in  Malinovka. 

When  she  saw  that  Vikentev  coloured  at  this  advice, 
which  indicated  doubt  of  his  tactfulness,  and  that 
Marfa  Egorovna  bit  her  underlip,  Tatiana  Markovna 
changed  her  tone-;  she  laid  her  hand  on  his  shoulder 
calling  him  "  Dear  Nikohnka,"  and  telhnghim  that  she 
knew  herself  how  unnecessary  her  words  were,  but 
that  old  women  liked  to  preach.  Then  she  sighed, 
and  said  not  another  word  to  her  guests  before  their 
departure. 

Vera  too  came  to  breakfast ;  she  looked  pale,  and  it 
was  clear  that  she  had  had  a  sleepless  night.  She 
said  she  still  had  a  headache,  but  felt  better  than  she 
did  yesterday.  There  was  no  change  in  Tatiana 
Markovna's  affectionate  manner  to  her.  Now  and 
then  Marfa  Egorovna  cast  questioning  glances  in 
Vera's   direction.     What   was   the   meaning    of   pain 


THE    PRECIPICE  253 

without  any  definite  illness  ?  Why  did  she  not 
appear  yesterday  until  after  dinner,  and  then  only 
for  a  moment,  to  go  out  followed  by  Tushin.  What 
had  they  found  to  say  to  one  another  for  an  hour 
in  the  twilight  ?  Being  a  sensible  woman  she  did 
not  pursue  these  inquiries,  though  they  flashed  for 
a  moment  in  her  eyes  ;  nevertheless  Vera  saw  them, 
although  they  were  quickly  exchanged  for  looks  of 
sympathy.  Neither  did  Marfa  Egorovna's  questioning 
glances  escape  Tatiana  Markovna,  who  kept  her  eyes 
on  the  ground,  while  Vera  maintained  her  indifferent 
manner.  Already  people  are  wondering  what  had 
happened,  thought  Tatiana  Markovna  sadly  ;  on  my 
arms  she  came  into  the  world,  she  is  my  child  and  yet 
I  do  not  know  what  her  trouble  is. 

Raisky  had  been  out  for  a  walk  before  breakfast, 
and  wore  on  his  face  a  look  as  if  he  had  just  come  to 
a  decision  on  a  momentous  question.  He  looked  at 
Vera  as  calmly  as  at  the  others,  and  did  not  avoid 
Tatiana  Markovna's  eyes.  He  promised  Vikentev 
to  come  over  to  see  him  in  a  day  or  two,  and  listened 
attentively  to  his  guest's  conversation  about  hunting 
and  fishing. 

At  last  everything  was  ready  for  their  departure. 
Tatiana  Markovna  and  Raisky  went  with  their  guests 
as  far  as  the  Volga,  leaving  Vera  at  home. 

Vera's  world  had  always  been  a  small  one,  and  its 
boundaries  were  now  drawn  more  narrowly  than  ever. 
She  had  been  contented  during  the  long  years  with 
the  observation  and  experience  which  were  accessible 
to  her  in  her  immediate  environment.  Her  small 
circle  represented  to  her  the  crowd  ;  she  made  her 
own  in  a  short  time  what  it  took  others  many  years 
in  many  places  to  learn.  Unlike  Marfinka  she  was 
cautious  in  her  sympathies,  granting  her  friendship 
only  to  the  priest's  wife  and  to  Tushin,  whom  she 
openly  called  her  friend.  The  simple  things  and  the 
simple  people  who  surrounded  her  did  not  serve  only 
trivial  purposes.  She  understood  how  to  embroider 
on  this  ordinary  canvas  the  bold  pattern  of  a  richer 
life   with   other   needs,    thoughts    and    feelings ;    she 


254  THE    PRECIPICE 

guessed  at  these  by  reading  between  the  hnes  of  every- 
day Hfe  other  Hnes  which  expressed  the  desires  of 
her  mind  and  heart.  If  she  was  cautious  in  her 
sympathies  she  was  excessively  so  in  the  sphere  of 
thought  and  knowledge.  She  read  books  from  the 
library  in  the  old  house,  taking  from  the  shelves 
at  first  without  choice  or  system  as  a  pastime  whatever 
came  into  her  hands  ;  then  she  began  to  experience 
curiosity,  and  finally  a  definite  desire  for  knowledge. 
She  was  keen-sighted  enough  to  understand  how 
aimless  and  unfruitful  it  was  to  wander  among  these 
other  minds  without  any  guiding  thread.  Without 
making  direct  inquiries  she  procured  some  explanations 
from  Koslov,  and  although  she  understood  many 
things  at  a  bound,  she  never  let  it  be  seen  that  she  had 
any  knowledge  of  things  beyond  her  immediate  circle. 
Without  losing  sight  of  Koslov's  instructions  she 
read  the  books  once  more,  to  find  that  they  meant 
much  more  to  her  and  that  her  interest  in  them  was 
steadily  increasing.  At  the  request  of  the  young 
priest,  Natasha's  husband,  she  brought  him  books  too, 
and  listened  when  he  expressed  his  views  on  this  or 
that  author,  without  herself  adopting  the  seminarist 
view. 

Later  on  she  came  into  contact  with  Mark,  who 
brought  a  new  light  to  bear  on  all  that  she  had  read 
and  heard  and  known  ;  his  attitude  was  one  of  blank 
denial.  No  authority  in  heaven  or  earth  weighed  with 
him,  he  despised  science  as  it  had  hitherto  developed, 
and  made  no  distinction  between  virtue  and 
crime.  If  he  thought  that  he  would  soon  be  able 
to  triumph  over  Vera's  convictions  he  was  mistaken. 
She  regarded  these  bold  and  often  alluring  ideas  with 
shy  admiration,  without  giving  herself  up  blindly 
to  their  influence ;  she  listened  cautiously  to  the 
preaching  of  the  apostle,  but  found  in  it  neither  a 
new  life,  nor  happiness,  nor  truth,  and,  though  she 
followed  attentively  what  he  had  to  say,  it  was  only 
because  she  was  drawn  on  by  the  ardent  desire  to  find 
the  reality  that  lay  behind  Mark's  extraordinary 
and     audacious     personality.     Mark     displayed     his 


THE    PRECIPICE  255 

unsparing  negation,  enmity  and  scorn  against  all  that 
men  believe,  love  and  hope  for ;  Vera  did  not  agree 
with  all  she  heard,  because  she  observed  the  malady 
that  lay  concealed  behind  the  teaching,  even  if  she 
could  not  discover  where  it  lay.  Her  Columbus  could 
show  her  nothing  but  a  row  of  open  graves  standing 
ready  to  receive  all  that  by  which  society  had  hitherto 
existed.  Vera  remembered  the  story  of  Pharaoh's 
lean  kine,  which  without  themselves  becoming  fatter 
devoured  the  fat  kine. 

Mark  would  have  despoiled  mankind  of  his  crown  in 
the  name  of  wisdom  ;  he  would  acknowledge  in  him 
nothing  but  an  animal  organism.  And  while  he 
denied  man  in  man,  denied  him  the  possession  of  a  soul 
and  the  right  to  immortality,  he  yet  spoke  of  his 
strivings  to  introduce  a  better  order  of  things,  neg- 
lecting to  observe  that  in  accordance  with  bis  own 
theory  of  the  chance  arrangement  of  existence,  by 
which  men  herd  together  like  flies  in  the  hot  weather  ; 
such  efforts  were  useless. 

Granting  the  correctness  of  his  ideas  as  a  premiss, 
thought  Vera,  there  can  be  no  sense  in  striving  to 
be  better,  kinder,  truer  and  purer,  if  this  life  enduring 
only  for  a  few  decades  is  the  end  of  all  things.  When 
she  looked  deeper  into  the  matter  and  examined 
the  new  truth  taught  by  the  young  apostle,  the  new 
conception  of  good  and  the  new  revelation,  she  saw 
with  astonishment  that  what  in  his  talk  was  good 
and  incontrovertible  was  not  new,  that  it  was  derived 
from  sources  from  which  others  also  drew,  who  certainly 
did  not  belong  to  the  new  society  ;  she  recognised 
that  the  seed  of  the  new  civilisation  which  he  preached 
with  so  much  l^aistfulness  and  such  a  parade  of 
mystery  lay  Va  the  old-fashioned  doctrine,  and  for 
this  reason  she  believed  more  firmly  than  ever  in 
the  older  philosophy  of  life.  She  looked  on  Mark's 
personality  with  such  suspicion  that  she  gradually 
withdrew  herself  from  his  influence.  Hideously  dis- 
turbed by  his  audacity  of  thought,  she  had  even  gone 
so  far  as  to  tell  Tatiana  Markovna  of  this  accidental 
acquaintance,  with  the  result  that  the  old  lady  told 


256  THE    PRECIPICE 

the  servants  to  keep  a  watch  on  the  garden,  but 
Volokov  came  from  the  direction  of  the  precipice, 
from  which  the  watchmen  were  effectually  kept  away 
by  their  superstitious  fears.  Mark  himself  had  noted 
Vera's  distrust,  and  he  set  himself  to  overcome  it. 

He  was  the  more  easily  able  to  accomplish  this 
because,  when  her  interest  was  once  awakened,  she 
met  him  halfway,  imperceptibly  to  herself.  She 
meditated  carefully  on  the  facts  that  made  up  her  life  ; 
her  mind  was  occupied  by  new  questionings,  and  for 
that  reason  she  listened  more  attentively  to  his  words 
when  she  met  him  in  the  fields.  Often  they  went 
out  walking  on  the  banks  of  the  Volga,  and  eventually 
found  a  meeting-place  in  the  arbour  at  the  bottom 
of  the  precipice.  Gradually  Vera  adopted  a  more 
active  role  in  their  intercourse.  She  wanted  to 
convert  him,  to  lead  him  back  to  the  acceptance  of 
proved  truth,  the  truth  of  love,  of  human  as  opposed 
to  animal  happiness,  of  faith  and  hope.  Mark  gave 
way  in  some  things,  though  only  gradually ;  his 
manners  became  less  eccentric,  he  was  less  provocative 
in  his  behaviour  to  the  police  than  before,  he  lived 
in  a  more  orderly  fashion,  and  ceased  to  stud  his 
conversation  with  cynical  remarks. 

The  change  pleased  Vera,  and  this  was  the  cause 
of  the  happy  excitement  that  Tatiana  Markovna 
and  Raisky  had  remarked  in  her.  Since  her  influence 
was  effective  even  if  only  in  what  affected  his  external 
life,  she  hoped  by  incessant  effort  and  sacrifice  gradually 
to  produce  a  miracle  ;  her  reward  was  to  be  the 
happiness  of  being  loved  by  the  man  of  her  heart's 
choice.  She  flattered  herself  that  she  would  be 
introducing  a  new  strong  man  into  society.  If  he 
were  to  show  himself  in  wisdoiii  » nd  strength  of 
will,  simply  and  reliable,  as  Tushin  was,  her  life  was 
mapped  out  for  her.  While  she  was  engaged  in  these 
efforts  she  allowed  her  passionate  nature  to  be  carried 
away  by  his  personality  ;  she  fell  in  love,  not  with  his 
doctrine,  which  she  refused  to  accept,  but  with  himself. 
He  called  to  new  activity,  but  she  saw  in  his  appeal 
nothing  more  than   the   lending  of  forbidden  books. 


THE    PRECIPICE  257 

She  agreed  with  him  that  work  was  necessary,  and 
herself  avoided  idleness  ;  she  drew  up  for  herself  a 
picture  of  simple  genuine  activity  for  the  future, 
and  envied  Mariinka  because  she  understood  how  to 
make  herself  useful  in  the  house  and  the  village. 
She  intended  to  share  these  labours  with  her  sister 
when  once  the  stiff  battle  with  Mark  had  been  brought 
to  a  conclusion  ;  but  the  struggle  was  not  to  end  with 
a  victory  for  either  one  or  the  other,  but  with  mutual 
overthrow  and  a  permanent  separation. 

These  were  the  thoughts  that  passed  through  Vera's 
mind  while  Tatiana  Markovna  and  Raisky  were 
accompanying  their  guests  and  Marfmka  as  far  as 
the  Volga.  What  was  the  Wolf  doing  now  ?  was 
he  enjoying  his  triumph  ?  She  took  from  her  letter 
case  a  sealed  letter  on  blue  paper  which  she  had 
received  early  that  morning  and  looked  at  it  thought- 
fully for  a  minute  before  she  threw  it  down  with  its 
seals  unbroken  on  the  table.  All  her  troubles  were 
submerged  in  the  painful  question,  what  would  become 
of  her  Grandmother.  Raisky  had  already  whispered 
to  Vera  that  he  would  speak  to  Tatiana  Markovna 
that  evening  if  she  were  alone,  and  that  he  would  take 
care  that  none  of  the  servants  should  have  the  oppor- 
tunity of  seeing  the  impression  which  the  news  was 
bound  to  make  on  her.  Vera  shivered  with  fore- 
I  boding  when  he  spoke  of  these  precautions ;  she 
would  have  liked  to  have  died  before  evening  came. 
After  her  talk  of  past  events  with  Raisky  and  Tushin 
she  recovered  something  of  her  usual  calmness  ;  a 
part  of  her  burden  was  gone  now  that,  like  a  sailor 
in  a  storm,  she  had  lightened  the  ship  of  some  of  its 
ballast,  but  she  felt  that  the  heaviest  load  of  all  still 
lay  on  her  conscience.  It  is  impossible  to  gt)  on 
living  like  this,  she  told  herself,  as  she  made  her  way 
to  the  chapel.  There,  on  her  knees,  she  looked 
anxiously  up  at  the  holy  picture  as  if  she  expected 
a  sign,  but  the  sign  she  longed  for  was  not  granted, 
and  she  passed  out  of  the  chapel  in  despair  as  one 
who  lay  under  the  ban  of  God. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

When  Tatiana  Markovna  returned  from  the  ferry 
she  sat  down  to  work  at  her  accounts,  but  soon  laid 
them  aside,  and  dismissed  the  servants.  She  asked 
for  Raisky,  who  had  gone  over  to  see  Koslov  because 
he  did  not  want  to  be  left  alone  with  his  aunt.  She 
sent  across  to  ask  Vera  whether  she  was  coming  to 
dinner.  Vera  said  that  she  would  rather  stay  in  her 
room  and  go  to  bed  early. 

In  the  courtyard  a  scene  by  no  means  unusual 
was  being  enacted.  Savili  had  nearly  broken  Marina's 
back  with  a  severe  beating  because  he  had  seen  her 
slipping  out  at  dawn  from  the  room  in  which  Vikentev's 
servant  was  quartered.  She  hid  herself  in  the  fields 
and  the  vegetable  garden,  but  at  last  she  emerged, 
thinking  that  he  would  have  forgotten.  He  struck 
her  with  the  whip  while  she  sought  refuge  in  one 
corner  after  another,  swearing  by  all  that  was  sacred 
that  the  devil  had  taken  on  her  figure  and  had  made 
a  fool  of  him.  But  when  he  exchanged  the  whip  for 
the  stick  she  cried  out  aloud  at  the  first  blow  and 
fell  at  his  feet.  "  I  am  guilty,"  she  cried,  begging 
for  mercy.  She  promised  not  to  transgress  again, 
calling  God  to  witness  of  her  sincerity.  Thereupon 
Savili  threw  away  the  stick  and  wiped  his  face  with 
his  sleeve. 

"  You  may  go  this  time,"  he  said,  "  since  you  have 
confessed,  and  since  you  call  God  to  witness." 

Tatiana  Markovna  was  informed  of  this  proceeding, 
but  she  only  wrinkled  her  forehead,  and  made  a  sign 
to  Vassilissa  not  to  be  too  severe  with  Marina. 

There  were  visitors  to  dinner  who  had  heard  of 
Vera's  indisposition  and  had  come  to  inquire.  Tatiana 
Markovna  spoke  of  a  chill,  suffering  all  the  time  from 
her   insincerity,   since   she   did   not   know  what   was 


THE    PRECIPICE  259 

the  truth  that  lay  behind  this  feigned  illness.  She 
had  not  dared  to  send  for  the  doctor,  who  would 
liave  immediately  seen  that  it  was  a  moral,  not  a 
physical  malady. 

She  ate  no  supper  ;  Tiet  Nikonich  politely  said  that 
he  had  no  appetite  either.  Then  came  Raisky,  who 
also  wanted  no  supper,  but  sat  silently  at  table 
pretending  not  to  notice  the  glances  which  Tatiana 
Markovna  directed  towards  him  from  time  to  time. 

When  Tiet  Nikonich  had  made  his  bow  and  departed, 
Tatiana  Markovna  prepared  to  retire.  She  hardly 
looked  at  Raisky  when  she  bade  him  good-night, 
because  her  affections  and  her  self-esteem  were  both 
too  deeply  wounded.  A  secret  and  serious  misfortune 
had  befallen  the  family,  but  she  was  left  on  one  side 
like  a  stranger,  as  if  she  were  a  useless,  incapable 
woman.  Raisky  said  in  a  low  voice  that  he  must 
speak  with  her. 

"  Bad  news  ?  "  she  whispered,  shivering  and  looking 
fixedly  at  him  before  she  passed  with  him  into  her 
own  room,  bhe  dropped  into  her  old  chair  and  pushed 
the  lamp  farther  away,  first  covering  it  with  a  shade,  so 
that  the  room  was  dimly  lighted.  Raisky  began 
his  tale  as  cautiously  as  possible,  but  his  lips  trembled 
and  now  and  again  his  tongue  refused  its  office,  but 
he  collected  all  his  strength  and  went  on,  although 
towards  the  end  of  his  story  his  voice  was  hardly 
audible. 

Dawn  had  come,  but  throughout  the  long  hours 
Tatiana  Markovna  had  sat  motionless  and  speechless 
with  bowed  head,  giving  vent  now  and  then  to  a  low 
moan.  Raisky  fell  on  his  knees  before  her  and  im- 
plored her,  "  Go  to  Vera's  help." 

"  She  has  sent  too  late  for  Grandmother.  God 
will  go  to  her  help.  Spare  her  and  console  her  as  you 
know  how  to  do.  She  no  longer  has  a  Grandmother," 
she  said,  going  towards  the  door, 

"  Grandmother,  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 
cried  Raisky  barring  her  way. 

"  You  have  no  longer  a  Grandmother,"  she  said 
absently.      "  Go,  go."     As  he  did  not  obey,  she  cried 


26o  THE    PRECIPICE 

angrily,  "  Don't  come  here.  I  will  see  no  one.  You 
must  all  of  you  leave  me  in  peace."  He  would  have 
replied,  but  she  made  an  impatient  gesture  with  her 
hand.  "  Go  to  her,"  she  continued.  "  Help  her  as 
far  as  you  can.  Grandmother  can  do  nothing  :  you 
have  no  longer  a  Grandmother." 

She  made  another  gesture  with  her  hand,  so  imperious 
this  time  that  he  went  without  further  parley,  but 
he  concealed  himself  in  the  yard  and  watched  her 
window.  Tatiana  Markovna  sank  back  in  her  chair 
and  closed  her  eyes,  and  for  a  long  time  she  remained 
there,  cold  and  stiff  as  if  she  were  a  dead  woman. 
Raisky,  who  had  not  gone  to  bed,  and  Vassilissa  and 
Yakob  as  well,  saw  Tatiana  Markovna  with  her  head 
uncovered  and  her  Turkish  shawl  thrown  round 
her  shoulders  leave  the  house  in  the  early  morning 
and  go  out  into  the  garden.  It  was  as  if  a  bronze 
figure  had  descended  from  its  pedestal  and  had  begun 
to  walk. 

She  passed  through  the  flower  garden  and  then 
through  the  avenue  to  the  precipice  ;  then,  striding 
slowh'^  along,  with  her  head  held  high  and  without 
looking  round,  she  went  down  the  face  of  the  cliff,  and 
disappeared.  Concealing  his  presence  in  the  trees, 
Raisky  hurried  after  her,  following  her  as  she  passed 
deeper  and  deeper  down  the  precipice  and  until  she 
reached  the  arbour,  where  she  paused.  Raisky  came 
closer,  and  held  his  breath  as  he  listened  to  Tatiana 
Markovna 's  heavy  sighs,  and  then  heard  her  whisper, 
"  My  sin."  With  her  hands  above  her  head  she 
walked  hastily  on,  until  she  came  to  the  bank  of 
the  river  and  stood  still.  The  wind  wound  her  dress 
round  her  ankles,  disordered  her  hair,  and  tugged 
at  her  shawl,  but  she  noticed  nothing.  A  terrible 
idea  dawned  on  Raisky  that  she  intended  to  drown 
herself.  But  his  aunt  turned  back  as  she  had  come, 
with  slow  strides  which  left  deep  prints  in  the  damp 
sand.  Raisky  breathed  more  freely ;  but  when, 
following  her  track  in  a  parallel  direction,  he  caught 
sight  of  her  face,  he  held  his  breath  in  horror  at  the 
agony  he  saw  written  there.     She  had  spoken  truly. 


THE    PRECIPICE  261 

their  grandmother  existed  no  longer.  This  was  not 
grandmother,  not  Tatiana  Markovna,  the  \Yarm- 
hearted  mistress  of  Mahnovka,  where  the  hfe  and 
prosperity  of  the  whole  place  depended  on  her,  the 
wise  and  happy  ruler  of  her  little  kingdom.  It  was 
as  if  she  were  not  walking  of  her  own  accord  but  was 
driven  on  by  an  impulse  exterior  to  herself,  as  uncon- 
scious of  her  movements  she  climbed  the  steep  hill 
through  the  brushwood,  with  her  shawl  hanging 
down  from  her  shoulders  dragging  its  corners  in  the 
dust ;  her  eyes,  from  which  stony  horror  looked  forth, 
were  unwinking  ;  her  manner  was  that  of  a  moon- 
struck woman.  Raisky  found  it  difficult  to  follow  her. 
She  paused  once,  leaning  both  hands  on  a  tree.  "  My 
sin,"  she  exclaimed  again.  "  How  heavy  is  the 
burden  !  If  it  is  not  lightened,  I  can  bear  it  no  longer." 
She  began  again  to  climb  quickly  up  the  hill,  sur- 
mounting the  difficulties  of  the  steep  path  with  un- 
natural strength  and  leaving  tags  of  her  dress  and 
her  shawl  behind  her  in  the  bushes. 

Overcome  with  amazement  and  horror,  Raisky 
watched  this  new  strange  woman.  He  knew  that 
only  great  souls  conquer  heavy  trouble  with  strength 
like  hers.  They  have  wings  like  eagles  to  soar  into 
the  clouds  and  eagle  eyes  to  gaze  into  the  abyss.  This 
was  not  his  grandmother  ;  she  seemed  to  him  to  be  one 
of  those  feminine  figures  which  emerge  from  the  family 
circle  in  the  supreme  moments  of  life  under  the  heavy 
blows  of  fate,  who  bear  great  misfortunes  majestically 
and  are  not  overwhelmed.  He  saw  in  her  a  Jewess 
of  the  olden  days,  a  noble  woman  of  Jerusalem,  who 
scorns  the  prophecy  that  her  people  will  lose  their  fame 
and  their  honour  to  the  Romans,  but  when  the  hour 
of  fate  has  arrived,  when  the  men  of  Jerusalem  arc 
watering  its  walls  with  their  tears  and  beating  their 
heads  against  the  stones,  then  she  takes  the  ornaments 
from  her  hair,  puts  on  mourning  garments,  and  goes 
on  her  pilgrimage  wherever  the  hand  of  Jehovah  leads. 
His  mind  went  back  to  another  queen  of  misfortune, 
to  the  Russian  Marfa,  the  enemy  of  the  city  of  Moscow, 
who  maintained  her  defiance  even  in  her  chains,  and, 


262  THE    PRECIPICE 

dying,  directed  the  destiny  of  free  Novgorod.  Before 
his  imagination  there  passed  a  procession  of  other 
suffering  women,  Russian  Tsaritsas,  who,  at  the  wish 
of  their  husbands,  had  adopted  the  dress  of  the  nun 
and  had  maintained  their  intellect  and  their  strength 
of  character  in  the  cloister.  .  .  . 

Raisky  diverted  his  attention  from  these 
unsummoned  apparitions,  and  looked  attentively 
at  the  suffering  woman  before  him.  Tatiana 
Markovna's  kingdom  was  perishing.  Her  house  was 
left  desolate ;  her  dearest  treasure,  her  pride,  her 
pearl,  had  been  taken  from  her,  and  she  wandered 
lonely  among  the  ruins.  When  she  paused  in  her 
walk  in  order  to  collect  her  strength,  she  tottered  and 
would  have  fallen  but  for  an  inner  whisper  which 
assured  her  she  would  yet  reach  her  goal.  She  pulled 
herself  together,  and  wandered  on  until  evening. 
Half  asleep,  terrified  by  her  crowding  fancies,  she 
spent  the  night  on  the  sofa.  At  dawn  she  rose,  and 
went  once  more  to  the  precipice.  With  her  head 
resting  on  the  bare  boards  she  sat  for  a  long  time  on  the 
crumbling  threshold  of  the  arbour,  then  she  went 
through  the  fields,  and  was  lost  in  the  thicket  on  the 
bank  of  the  river.  By  chance  her  steps  led  her  to 
the  chapel,  where  new  terror  seized  her  at  the  sight  of 
the  picture  of  the  Christ.  She  fell  on  her  knees  like  a 
wounded  animal,  covered  her  face  with  her  shawl,  and 
moaned,   "  My  sin  !  my  sin  !  " 

Tatiana  Markovna's  servants  had  lost  their  heads 
in  terror.  Vassilissa  and  Yakob  hardly  stirred  from 
the  church.  She  intended,  if  her  mistress  recovered, 
to  make  her  pilgrimage  on  foot  to  Kiev  in  order  to 
venerate  the  miracle  worker ;  he  promised  to  the 
patron  saint  of  the  village  a  thick  wax  candle 
ornamented  with  gold.  The  rest  of  the  servants  hid 
themselves,  and  only  looked  shyly  out  after  their 
mistress  as  she  wandered  distraught  through  the 
fields  and  the  woods. 

For  two  days  already  Tatiana  Markovna  had  eaten 
nothing.  Raisky  indeed  tried  to  restrain  her  from 
leaving  the  house  again,  but  she  waved  him  imperiously 


THE    PRECIPICE  263 

away.  Then  with  decision  he  took  a  jug  of  water,  came 
up  to  her,  and  took  her  hand.  She  looked  at  him  as 
if  she  did  not  know  who  he  was,  then  mechanically 
seized  the  jug  in  her  trembling  hand,  and  drank 
greedily  in  big  mouthfuls. 

"  Grandmother,  come  home  again,  and  do  not  make 
both  yourself  and  us  wretched,"  he  begged.  "  You 
will  kill  yourself." 

"  It  is  God's  will  ;  I  shall  not  lose  my  reason,  for  I  am 
upheld  by  His  strength.  I  must  endure  to  the  end. 
Do  you  raise  me  if  I  fall.  My  sin  !  "  she  murmured 
and  went  on  her  way.  After  she  had  gone  a  few  steps, 
she  turned  round  and  he  ran  to  her. 

"  If  I  do  not  survive,"  she  began,  signing  to  him  to 
bow  his  head.  Raisky  knelt  down,  and  she  pressed 
his  head  to  her  breast,  laid  her  hands  on  it  and  kissed 
him.  "  Accept  my  blessing,  deliver  it  to  Marfinka, 
and  to  her,  to  my  poor  Vera.  Do  you  understand, 
to  her  also." 

"  Grandmother  !  "  he  cried,  kissing  her  hand. 

She  tore  her  hand  away,  and  set  out  to  wander 
once  more  through  the  thicket,  by  the  river  bank,  and 
in  the  fields.  A  devout  soul  obeys  its  own  laws, 
thought  Raisky,  as  he  dried  his  tears  ;  only  a  saint 
could  suffer  like  this  for  the  object  of  her  love. 

Things  were  not  going  any  better  with  Vera.  Raisky 
made  haste  to  tell  her  of  his  conversation  with  their 
aunt  ;  when  she  sent  for  him  early  next  morning,  in 
her  anxiety  to  have  news  of  Tatiana  JMarkovna,  he 
pointed  out  of  the  window,  and  Vera  saw  how  Tatiana 
Markovna  was  drifting,  urged  on  by  the  heavy  hand 
of  misfortune.  For  a  moment  she  caught  sight 
of  her  expression,  and  sank  horrified  on  the  floor,  but 
she  pulled  herself  up  again,  ran  from  one  window  to 
the  other,  and  stretched  her  hands  out  towards  her 
grandmother.  Then  she  rushed  through  the  wide  empty 
hall  of  the  old  house  in  a  wild  desire  to  follow  Tatiana 
Markovna,  but  she  realised  in  time  that  it  would 
have  killed  her  aunt  if  she  approached  her  just  now. 
Vera  was  conscious  now  how  deeply  she  had  wounded 
another  life  so  close  to  her  own,  as  she  saw  the  tragic 


264  THE    PRECIPICE 

figure  of  her  aunt,  so  happy  until  recently  and  now 
bearing  the  punishment  of  another's  sin.  Raisky 
brought  her  Tatiana  Markovna's  blessing,  and  Vera 
fell  on  his  neck  and  wept  for  a  long  time. 

On  the  evening  of  the  second  day,  Vera  was  found  j 
sitting  in  a  corner  of  the  great  hall,  half  dressed.  ' 
Raisky  and  the  priest's  wife,  who  had  just  arrived,  led 
her  almost  by  force  into  her  room  and  laid  her  down 
on  the  bed.  Raisky  sent  for  the  doctor,  to  whom 
he  tried  to  explain  her  indisposition.  The  doctor 
prescribed  a  sedative,  which  Vera  drank  without  being 
any  calmer  for  it ;  she  often  waked  in  her  sleep  to  ask 
after  her  grandmother. 

"  Give  me  something  to  drink  .  .  .  don't  say  a 
word.  Do  not  let  anyone  come  to  see  me.  Find  out 
what  Grandmother  is  doing."  It  was  just  the  same 
in  the  night.  When  she  awoke,  she  would  whisper, 
"  Grandmother  doesn't  come.  Grandmother  doesn't 
love  me  any  more.     She  has  not  forgiven  me." 

On  the  third  day  Tatiana  Markovna  left  the  house 
without  being  observed.  After  two  sleepless  nights, 
Raisky  had  lain  down  and  had  given  instructions  to 
wake  him  if  she  left  the  house,  but  Yakob  and  Vassilissa 
had  gone  to  early  Mass,  and  the  other  servants  had 
paid  no  attention.  Later  on  Savili  saw  that  his 
mistress,  catching  hold  of  the  trees  as  she  w^ent,  was 
making  her  way  from  the  precipice  to  the  fields. 
Raisky  hurried  after  her  and  watched  her  slow  return 
to  the  house  ;  she  stood  still,  looked  round  as  if  she  were 
saying  goodbye  to  the  group  of  houses,  groped  with 
her  hands,  and  swayed  violently.  Then  he  rushed 
up  to  her,  brought  her  back  to  the  house  with 
Vassilissa's  help,  put  her  in  her  armchair  and  sent 
for  the  doctor.  Vassilissa  fell  on  her  knees  before  her 
mistress. 

"  Little  mother  !  Tatiana  Markovna,"  she  begged, 
"  come  back  to  us.     Make  the  sign  of  the  Cross." 

Tatiana  Markovna  crossed  herself,  sighed,  and  signed 
that  she  could  not  speak  and  wanted  something  to 
drink.  Vassilissa  undressed  her,  wrapped  her  in 
warm  sheets,  rubbed  her  hands  and  feet  with  spirit. 


THE    PRECIPICE  265 

cUid  then  gave  her  some  warm  wine  to  drink.  The 
doctor  prescribed  for  her,  but  said  that  it  was  most 
important  of  all  that  she  should  not  be  disturbed, 
but  should  be  allowed  to  sleep. 

An  incautious  word  that  Tatiana  Markovna  was  ill 
reached  Vera's  ears.  She  pushed  past  Natalie 
Ivanovna,  and  wanted  to  go  over  to  the  new  house  ; 
Raisky  had  great  difficulty  in  persuading  her  to 
abandon  her  intention  as  Tatiana  Markovna  lay  in  a 
deep  sleep.  In  the  evening  Vera  was  worse,  she  had 
fever  and  was  delirious,  and  during  the  night  she  flung 
herself  from  one  side  to  another,  calling  on  her  grand- 
mother in  her  sleep,  and  weeping.  Raisk}?  wanted  to 
call  the  old  doctor  ;  he  waited  impatiently  till  the 
morning  and  spent  his  time  in  going  from  Vera  to 
Tatiana  Markovna,  and  from  Tatiana  Markovna  back 
to  Vera. 

As  Vera's  condition  had  not  improved  next  morning, 
Raisky  went  with  Vassilissa  into  Tatiana  Markovna's 
bedroom,  where  they  found  the  old  lady  in  the 
same  state  as  she  had  been  in  the  whole  of  the  day 
before. 

"  I  am  afraid  of  going  near  her  in  case  I  alarm  her," 
he  whispered. 

"  Should  I  awaken  the  mistress  ?  " 
"  She  must  be  awakened.     Vera  Vassilievna  is  ill, 
and  I  don't  know  whether  I  ought  to  send  for  the  old 
doctor." 

The  words  were  hardly  out  of  his  mouth  when 
Tatiana  Markovna  sat  up.  "  Is  Vera  ill  ?  "  she  said 
in  a  low  voice. 

Raisky  breathed  more  freely,  for  his  aunt,  in  her 
present  anxiety,  had  lost  the  stony  expression  of 
3'esterday.  She  signed  to  him  to  leave  the  room. 
Half  an  hour  later  she  was  walking  across  the  court- 
yard to  the  old  house  with  trouble  plainly  depicted  on 
her  face,  but  apparently  without  a  trace  of  weariness. 
She  entered  Vera's  room  cautiously,  and  when  she  saw 
the  pale  sleeping  face,  whispered  to  Raisk}',  "  Send  for 
the  old  doctor."  She  now  noticed  for  the  first  time 
the  priest's  wife  and  her  weary  eyes  ;  she  embraced 


266  THE    PRECIPICE 

Natalie  Ivanovna,  and  advised  her  kindly  to  go  and 
get  a  whole  day's  rest. 

When  the  doctor  arrived,  Tatiana  Markovna  gave 
him  an  ingenious  explanation  of  Vera's  indisposition. 
He  discovered  symptoms  of  a  nervous  fever  and 
prescribed  medicine  ;  but  on  the  whole  he  did  not 
think  that  serious  consequences  need  be  expected 
if  the  patient  could  be  kept  quiet.  Vera  was  half 
asleep  when  she  took  the  medicine  and  towards  evening 
fell  fast  asleep,  Tatiana  Markovna  sat  down  at  the 
head  of  the  bed,  watching  her  movements  and  listening 
to  her  breathing.  Presently  Vera  woke  up  and  asked, 
"Are  you  asleep,  Natasha  ?  " 

As  she  received  no  answer  she  closed  her  eyes,  but 
she  could  not  go  to  sleep  again,  and  the  darkness  seemed 
to  her  to  be  a  dark  and  terrible  prison.  After  a  time 
she  asked  for  something  to  drink.  Someone  handed 
her  a  cup. 

"  How  is  Grandmother  ?  "  asked  Vera,  opening  her 
eyes  only  to  close  them  again  immediately.  "  Natasha, 
where  are  you  ?  Come  here.  Why  are  you  hiding  ?  " 
she  sighed  and  fell  asleep  again.  Presently  she  woke 
again  and  whispered  pitifully,  "  Grandmother  doesn't 
come.  Grandmother  loves  me  no  longer,  and  has  not 
forgiven  me." 

"  Grandmother  is  here.  She  loves  you  and  has 
forgiven  you." 

Vera  sprang  from  the  bed  and  rushed  up  to  Tatiana 
Markovna.  "  Grandmother,"  she  cried,  half  fainting 
and  hiding  her  head  on  her  breast. 

Tatiana  Markovna  put  her  to  bed  again,  leaned  her 
grey  head  by  Vera's  white  suffering  face,  while  the 
girl  in  a  low  voice,  with  sighs  and  tears,  made  her 
confession  on  her  breast.  Her  aunt  listened  without 
speaking,  and  presently  wiped  away  Vera's  tears  with 
her  handkerchief,  and  kissed  her  warmly  and 
affectionately. 

"  Do  not  waste  your  caresses  on  me.  Grandmother  ; 
only  do  not  leave  me.  I  do  not  deserve  your  caresses. 
Keep  your  kisses  for  my  sister." 

"  Your  sister  is  no  longer  in  need  of  my  caresses. 


THE    PRECIPICE  267 

But  I  need  your  love.  If  you  forsake  me,  Vera,  I 
shall  be  a  desolate  old  woman."  Tatiana  Markovna 
wept. 

"  Mother,  forgive  me,"  whispered  Vera,  embracing 
her  with  her  whole  strength.  "  I  have  not  been 
obedient  to  you,  and  God  has  punished  me,"  she  went 
on,  but  Tatiana  Markovna  shut  her  mouth  with  a  kiss. 

"  Do  not  talk  like  that,  Vera,"  interrupted  her 
grandmother,  who  had  turned  pale  with  horror  and 
once  more  wore  the  aspect  of  the  old  woman  who  had 
been  wandering  about  in  the  thicket  by  the  precipice. 

"  Yes,  I  thought  that  my  own  brain  and  will  were 
self-sufficing,  that  I  was  wiser  than  you  all." 

"  You  are  wiser  than  I  and  have  more  learning," 
said  Tatiana  Markovna,  breathing  more  freely.  "  God 
has  given  you  a  clear  understanding,  but  you  have 
not  my  experience." 

Vera  thought  that  she  had  more  experience  also, 
but  she  merely  said,  "  Take  me  away  from  here. 
There  is  no  Vera  any  longer.  I  want  to  be  your 
Marfinka.  Take  me  away  from  this  old  house  over 
there  to  you." 

The  two  heads  rested  side  by  side  on  the  pillow. 
They  lay  in  a  close  embrace  and  fell  asleep. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

Vera  rose  the  next  morning  pale  and  exhausted,  but 
without  any  fever.  She  had  wept  out  her  malady 
on  her  grandmother's  breast.  The  doctor  professed 
himself  satisfied,  and  said  she  should  stay  in  her 
room  for  a  few  days.  Everything  in  the  house  went 
on  as  before.  There  were  no  festivities  in  honour 
of  Vera's  name  day,  as  she  had  expressed  a  wish  that 
there  should  be  none.  Neither  Marfinka  nor  the 
Vikentevs  came  ;  a  messenger  was  sent  to  Kolchino 
with  the  announcement  that  Vera  Vassilievna  was 
unwell  and  was  keeping  her  room.     Tushin  sent  his 


268  THE    PRECIPICE 

congratulations  in  a  respectful  note,  asking  for  per- 
mission to  come  and  see  her.  Her  reply  was  that  he 
should  wait  a  little  until  she  was  better.  Under  the 
pretext  of  Vera's  illness,  callers  who  came  from  the 
town  to  present  their  congratulations  were  not 
admitted.  Only  the  servants  celebrated  the  occasion 
in  their  own  way  ;  the  maids  appeared  in  their  gay 
dresses,  and  the  coachmen  and  the  lackeys  got  drunk. 

Vera  and  her  aunt  developed  a  new  relationship. 
Tatiana  Markovna's  consideration  for  Vera  was  by 
no  means  assumed,  but  her  kindness  did  not  make 
Vera's  heart  lighter.  What  she  had  expected  and 
wished  was  severe  judgment,  a  penance,  perhaps  exile 
for  half  a  year  or  a  year  to  Tatiana  Markovna's 
distant  estate,  where  she  would  gradually  win  back 
her  peace  of  mind  or  at  any  rate  forget,  if  it  was  true, 
as  Raisky  said,  that  time  extinguishes  all  impressions. 
"  I  see,"  thought  Vera,  "that  Grandmother  suffers 
inexpressibly.  Grief  has  changed  her  altogether ; 
her  figure  is  bowed  and  her  face  more  deeply  furrowed. 
Perhaps  she  is  only  sparing  me  now  because  her  heart 
has  opened  itself  to  pity.  She  cannot  bear  to  punish 
me,  now  that  I  am  ill  and  repentant."  Vera  had  lost 
her  pride,  her  self-respect  and  her  dignity,  and  if  once 
these  flowers  are  taken  out  of  the  crown  which  adorns 
the  head  of  man,  his  doom  is  at  hand.  She  tried  to 
pray  and  could  not,  for  she  had  nothing  to  pray  for, 
and  could  only  bow  her  head  in  humility. 

Raisky  came  into  much  closer  relation  with  his 
aunt  and  Vera.  His  naturalness  and  genuine  affec- 
tion, the  friendly  intimacy  of  his  conversation,  his 
straightforwardness,  his  talkative  humour,  and  the 
gleaming  play  of  his  fancy  were  a  distraction  and  a 
consolation  to  both  of  them.  He  often  drew  a  laugh 
from  them,  but  he  tried  in  vain  to  distract  them 
from  the  grief  which  hung  like  a  cloud  over  them  both 
and  over  the  whole  house.  He  himself  was  sad 
when  he  saw  that  neither  his  esteem  nor  Tatiana 
Markovna's  kindness  could  give  back  to  poor  Vera 
her  courage,  her  pride,  her  confidence  and  her  strength 
of  will. 


THE    PRECIPICE  269 

Tatiana  Markovna  spent  the  nights  in  the  old 
house  on  the  divan  opposite  Vera's  bed  and  watched 
her  sleep.  But  it  nearly  always  happened  that  they 
•'.rcre  both  observing  one  another,  so  that  neither  of 
i  hem  found  refreshing  sleep.  On  the  morning  after  a 
-Icepless  night  of  this  kind,  Tatiana  Markovna  sent 
[or  Tiet  Nikonich.  He  came  gladly,  plainly  delighted 
ihat  the  illness  which  threatened  Vera  Vassilievna 
had  blown  over,  and  bringing  with  him  a  water  melon 
of  extraordinary  size  and  a  pineapple  for  a  present. 
lUit  a  glance  at  his  old  friend  was  enough  to  make  him 
;iiange  colour.  Tatiana  Markovna  hastily  put  on  her 
lur-trimmed  cloak,  threw  a  scarf  over  her  head,  and 
signed  to  him  to  follow  her  as  she  led  the  way  into 
the  garden.  They  sat  for  two  hours  on  Vera's  bench. 
Then  she  went  back  to  the  house  with  bowed  head, 
while  he  drove  home,  overcome  with  grief,  ordered 
his  servants  to  pack,  sent  for  post  horses,  and  drove 
to  his  estate,  to  which  he  had  not  been  for  many 
years. 

Raisk}^  who  had  gone  to  see  him,  heard  the  news 
with  astonishment.  He  questioned  his  aunt,  who 
told  him  that  some  disturbance  had  broken  out  on 
Tiet  Nikonich's  estate.  Vera  was  sadder  than  ever. 
Lines  began  to  appear  on  her  forehead,  which  would 
one  day  become  furrows.  Sometimes  she  would 
approach  the  table  on  which  the  unopened  blue 
letter  lay  and  then  turn  away.  Where  should  she  flee, 
where  conceal  herself  from  the  world  ?  When  night 
fell,  she  lay  down,  put  out  the  light,  and  stared  wide- 
eyed  in  front  of  her.  She  wanted  to  forget,  to  sleep, 
but  sleep  would  not  come.  Dark  spots,  blacker  than 
night,  danced  before  her  eyes,  shadows  moved  up  and 
down  with  a  wave-like  motion  in  the  glimmer  of  light 
that  lay  around  the  window.  But  she  felt  no  fear, 
she  would  not  have  died  of  terror  if  there  had  risen 
suddenly  out  of  the  corner  a  ghost,  a  thief  or  a  murderer ; 
she  would  hot  have  felt  any  fear  if  she  had  been  told 
that  her  last  hour  was  come.  She  looked  out  unceas- 
ingly into  the  darkness,  at  the  waving  shadows,  at  the 
flitting  specks  which  stood  out  the  more  clearly  in  the 


270  THE    PRECIPICE  ' 

blackness  of  the  night,  at  the  rings  of  changing  colour 
which  whirled  shimmering  round  her. 

Slowly  and  quietly  the  door  opened.  Vera  propped 
herself  on  her  elbow  and  saw  a  hand  carrying  a  lamp 
carefully  shaded.  Tatiana  Markovna  dropped  her 
cloak  from  her  shoulder  on  to  a  chair  and  approached 
the  bed,  looking  not  unlike  a  ghost  in  her  white  dressing- 
gown.  Vera  had  laid  her  head  back  on  the  pillow 
and  pretended  to  sleep.  Tatiana  Markovna  put  the 
lamp  on  the  table  behind  the  bed-head,  and  sat  down 
carefully  and  quietly  on  the  divan  with  her  head 
leaning  on  her  hand.  She  did  not  take  her  eyes  from 
Vera,  and  when  Vera  opened  her  own  an  hour  later 
Tatiana  Markovna  was  still  looking  fixedly  at  her. 
"  Can't  you  sleep,  Vera  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Why  do  you  punish  me  in  the  night  too,  Grand- 
mother ?  "  asked  Vera  in  a  low  tone.  The  two  women 
looked  at  one  another  and  both  seemed  to  understand 
the  speech  in  their  eyes.  "  You  are  kiUing  me  with 
sympathy,  Grandmother,"  Vera  went  on.  "  It  would 
be  better  to  drive  me  from  your  sight.  But  it  is  very 
hard  for  me  to  bear  when  you  measure  out  your  scorn 
drop  by  drop.  Either  forgive  me  or,  if  that  is  impos- 
sible, bury  me  alive.  Why  are  you  silent  ?  What 
is  in  your  mind  ?  Your  silence  tortures  me  ;  it  seems 
to  say  something,  and  yet  never  says  it." 

"  It  is  so  hard,  Vera,  to  speak.  Pray,  and  under- 
stand your  Grandmother  even  when  she  is  silent." 

"  I  have  tried  to  pray,  and  cannot.  What  have  I 
to  pray  for,  except  that  I  should  die  the  sooner.  I 
shall  die  I  know  ;  only  let  it  come  quickly,  for  like 
this  it  is  impossible  to  live." 

"It  is  possible,"  said  Tatiana  Markovna,  drawing 
a  deep  sigh. 

"  After  .  .  .  that  ?  " 

"  After  that,"  replied  her  grandmother. 

"  You  don't  know.  Grandmother,"  said  Vera  with 
a  hopeless  sigh.  "  You  have  not  been  a  woman 
like  me." 


THE    PRECIPICE  271 

Tatiana  Markovna  stooped  down  to  Vera,  and 
whispered  in  a  hardy  audible  voice,  "  A  woman  Hke 
you." 

Vera  looked  at  her  in  amazement,  then  let  her 
head  fall  back  on  the  pillow  and  said  wearily,  "  You 
were  never  in  my  position.     You  are  a  saint." 

"  A  sinner,"  rejoined  Tatiana  Markovna. 

"  We  are  all  sinners,  but  not  a  sinner  of  that  kind." 

"  Of  that  kind." 

Vera  seized  Tatiana  Markovna's  dress  with  both 
hands,  and  pressed  her  face  to  hers.  The  words  that 
came  from  her  troubled  breast  sounded  like  hisses. 
"  Why  do  you  slander  yourself  ?  Is  it  in  order  to 
calm  and  help  me  ?     Grandmother,  do  not  lie  !  " 

"  I  never  lie  and  you  know  it,  and  how  should  I 
begin  to  do  so  now.  I  am  a  sinner,  and  m373elf  need 
forgiveness,"  she  said,  throwing  herself  on  her  knees 
and  bowing  her  grey  head. 

"  Why  do  you  say  these  things  to  me  ?  "  said 
Vera,  staring  at  the  kneeling  woman,  and  pressing 
her  head  to  her  breast.  "  Take  your  words  back 
again.  I  have  not  heard  them  or  will  forget  them  ; 
will  regard  them  as  the  product  of  a  dream.  Do  not 
torture  yourself  for  my  sake.  Rise,  Grandmother." 
Tatiana  Markovna  lay  on  her  breast,  sobbing  like  a 
child.     "  Why  did  you  tell  me  this  ?  "  said  Vera. 

"  It  was  God's  wish  that  I  should  humble  myself 
to  ask  you,  my  child,  for  forgiveness.  If  you  grant 
me  your  forgiveness.  Vera,  I,  too,  can  forgive  you.  I 
had  hoped  to  keep  my  secret  until  I  died,  and  now 
my  sin  has  plunged  you  into  ruin." 

"  You  rescue  me.  Grandmother,  from  despair." 

"  And  myself,  Vera.  God  forgives,  but  he  demands 
cleansing.  I  thought  my  sin  was  forgotten  and 
forgiven.  Because  of  my  silence  I  seemed  to  men  to 
be  virtuous,  but  my  virtue  was  a  lie.  God  has  punished 
my  sin.     Forgive  me  from  your  heart." 

"  Does  one  forgive  one's  Mother  ?  You  arc  a  saint, 
a  Mother  without  a  peer  in  the  whole  wide  world. 
If  I  had  k>'Own  you,  as  you  really  are,  how  could  I 
have  acted  >"ontrary  to  your  will  ?  " 


272  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  That  is  my  second  terrible  sin.  I  was  silent,  and 
did  not  tell  you  to  beware  of  the  precipice.  Your 
dead  Mother  will  call  me  to  account  for  my  failure, 
I  know.  She  comes  to  me  in  my  dreams,  and  is 
now  here  between  us.  Do  you  also  forgive  me, 
Departed  One,"  she  cried  wildly,  stretching  out  her 
arms  in  supplication. 

Vera  shuddered. 

"  Forgive  me.  Vera.  I  ask  forgiveness  of  you  both, 
We  will  pray." 

Vera  tried  to  raise  her  to  her  feet,  and  Tatiana 
Markovna  raised  herself  with  difficulty,  and  sat  down 
on  the  divan. 

Vera  bathed  her  temples  with  eau  de  Cologne,  and 
gave  her  a  sedative  ;  then  she  kneeled  down  before 
her  and  covered  her  hand  with  kisses. 

"  What  is  hidden  must  be  revealed,"  began  Tatiana 
Markovna,  when  she  had  recovered  a  little.  "  For 
forty-five  years  only  two  human  beings  beside  myself 
have  known  it,  he  and  Vassilissa,  and  I  thought  the 
secret  would  die  with  me.  And  now  it  is  made  public. 
My  God  I  "  she  cried,  wildly,  stretching  her  folded 
arms  to  the  picture  of  the  Christ.  "  Had  I  known 
that  this  stroke  would  ever  fall  on  another,  on  my 
child,  I  would  have  confessed  my  sin  there  and  then 
to  the  all  world  in  the  Cathedral  square." 

Vera  still  hesitated  to  believe  what  she  heard.  Was 
it  a  heroic  measure,  a  generous  invention  to  rescue 
and  restore  her  own  self-respect  ?  But  her  aunt's 
prayers,  her  tears,  her  appeal  to  Vera's  dead  mother, 
no  actress  would  have  dared  to  use  such  devices,  and 
her  aunt  was  the  soul  of  truth  and  honour. 

Warm  life  pulsed  in  Vera's  heart,  and  her  heart 
was  lightened.  She  felt  as  if  life  was  streaming  through 
her  veins  after  an  evil  dream.  Peace  tapped  at  the 
door  of  her  soul,  the  dark  forsaken  temple,  which  was 
now  gaily  lighted  once  more  and  a  home  of  prayer. 
She  felt  that  Tatiana  Markovna  and  she  we^e  insep- 
arable sisters,  and  she  even  began  involrntarily  to 
address  her  as  "  thou,"  as  she  had  done  Taisky  when 
her  heart  responded  to  his  kindness.     As  t}-ese  thoughts 


THE    PRECIPICE  273 

/hirled  in  her  head,  she  had  a  sensation  of  Hghtness 
,nd  freedom,  like  a  prisoner  whose  fetters  have  been 
emoved. 

"  Grandmother,"  she  said,  rising,  "you  have  forgiven 
le,  and  you  love  me  more  than  you  do  any  of  the 
thers,  more  than  Marfinka,  that  I  realise.  But  do 
ou  know  and  understand  my  love  for  you  ?  I  should 
ot  have  suffered  as  I  did,  but  for  my  love  for  you. 
low  long  we  have  been  strangers  !  " 

"  I  will  tell  you  all,  Vera,  and  you  must  hear  my 
onfession.  Judge  me  severely,  but  pardon  me,  and 
jod  will  pardon  us  both." 

"  I  will  not,  I  ought  not,  I  may  not,"  cried  Vera. 

To  what  end  should  I  hear  it  ?  " 

"  So  that  I  may  suffer  once  more,  as  I  suffered 
ive-and-forty  years  ago.  You  know  my  sin,  and 
3oris  shall  know  it.  He  may  laugh  at  the  grey  hairs 
f  old  Kunigunde." 

As  she  strode  up  and  down,  shaking  her  head  in 
ler  fanatical  seriousness,  with  sorrow  and  triumphant 
iignity  in  her  face,  her  resemblance  to  the  old  family 
)ortrait  in  the  gallery  was  very  marked. 

Beside  her  Vera  felt  like  a  small  and  pitiful  child 
ls  she  gazed  timidly  into  her  aunt's  eyes  ;  she  measured 
ler  own  young  strength  by  the  strength  of  this  old 
voman  who  had  ripened  and  remained  unbroken 
n  the  long  struggle  of  life. 

'  My  whole  life  can  never  repay  what  you  have 
lone  for  me,  Grandmother.  Let  this  be  the  end  of 
;our  penance,  and  tell  me  no  more.  If  you  are  deter- 
nined  that  Boris  shall  know,  I  will  whisper  a  word 
ibout  your  past  to  him.  Since  I  have  seen  your 
mguish,  why  should  you  suffer  a  longer  martyrdom  ? 
[  will  not  listen.  It  is  not  my  place  to  sit  in  judgment 
Dn  you.     Let  me  hold  your  grey  hairs  sacred." 

Tatiana  Markovna  sighed,  and  embraced  Vera. 

"  As  you  will.  Your  will  is  like  God's  forgiveness 
o  me,  and  I  am  grateful  to  you  for  sparing  my  grey 
lairs." 

"  Now,"  said  Vera,  "  let  us  go  across  to  your  house, 
where  we  can  both  rest." 


274  THE    PRECIPICE 

Tatiana  Markovna  almost  carried  her  across  to 
the  new  house,  laid  her  on  her  own  bed,  and  lay  down 
beside  her. 

When  Vera  had  fallen  peacefully  asleep,  her  aunt 
rose  cautiously,  and,  in  the  light  of  the  lamp,  watched 
the  marble  beauty  of  her  forehead,  her  closed  eyes, 
all  sculptured  pure  and  delicate  as  if  by  a  master 
hand,  and  at  the  expression  of  deep  peace  that  lay 
on  her  face.  She  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  over 
Vera  as  she  slept,  touched  her  forehead  with  her  lips, 
and  sank  on  her  knees  in  prayer. 

"  Have  mercy  on  her  !  "  she  breathed.  "  If  Thy 
anger  is  not  yet  appeased,  turn  it  from  her  and  strike 
my  grey  head." 

Presently  she  lay  down  beside  Vera,  with  her  arm 
around  her  neck.  Vera  woke  occasionally,  opened 
her  eyes,  and  closed  them  again.  She  pressed  closer 
and  closer  to  Tatiana  Markovna  as  if  no  harm  could 
befall  her  within  the  circle  of  those  faithful  arms. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 


1  1 


As  the  days  went  by  Malinovka  assumed  its  wont 
calm.  The  quiet  life  which  had  been  brought  to 
pause  by  the  catastrophe,  flowed  evenly  on.  The 
peaceful  atmosphere  was  not  undisturbed  by  anxiety. 
Autumn  had  laid  her  hand  on  men  as  well  as  on  nature.^ 
The  household  was  thoughtful,  silent,  and  cold  ;• 
smiles,  laughter,  and  joy  had  vanished  like  the  falling 
leaves,  and  even  though  the  worst  crisis  was  passed, 
it  had  left  behind  it  an  atmosphere  of  gloom. 

Tatiana  Markovna  ruled  her  little  kingdom  once 
more.  Vera  was  busily  engaged  in  the  house,  and 
devoted  much  care  and  taste  to  the  choice  of  Marfinka's 
trousseau.  She  had  determined  not  to  avoid  any 
task,  however  simple  and  trivial  it  might  be,  wJule 
she  awaited  the  opportunity  of  some  serious  len  )rk 
that  life  might  offer  her;  she  recognisedviuughtsithki 

i' 


THE    PRECIPICE  275 

lost  people  avoidance  of  the  trivial  and  the  hope 
f  something  extraordinary  and  unprecedented  were 
ictated  either  by  idleness  and  incompetence,  or  by 
lorbid  self-love  and  vanity. 

She  was  paler  than  before,  her  eyes  were  less  spark- 
ng,  and  she  had  lost  some  of  her  vivacity  of  gesture  ; 
ut  these  changes  were  put  down  by  everyone  to 
er  narrow  escape  from  nervous  fever. 

In  fulfilment  of  Tatiana  Markovna's  insistently 
xpressed  wish,  Vera  had  spoken  to  Raisky  of  their 
unt's  passion,  of  which  Tiet  Nikonich  had  been  the 
bject,  but  she  said  nothing  of  the  sin.  Even  this 
artial  confidence  explained  to  Raisky  the  riddle, 
ow  Tatiana  Markovna,  who  in  his  eyes  was  an  old 
laid,  could  find  the  strength,  not  only  to  bear  the 
runt  of  Vera's  misfortune,  but  to  soothe  her,  and 
D  rescue  her  from  moral  collapse  and  despair. 

He  showed  in  his  intercourse  with  her,  more  clearly 
lan  before,  a  deep  and  affectionate  esteem,  and  an 
nbounded  devotion.  He  now  no  longer  contradicted 
er,  so  that  an  end  was  put  to  the  earlier  semi-comic 
warfare  he  had  waged  against  her  ;  even  in  his  gestures 
here  was  a  certain  reserve.  She  inspired  him  with 
lie  astonishment  and  admiration  which  are  called 
Drth  by  women  of  exceptional  moral  strength. 

The  servants,  too,  were  different,  even  though  the 
loud  had  passed.  There  was  no  sound  of  quarrelling, 
buse  or  laughter.  Vassilissa  found  herself  in  an 
xceptionally  difficult  position,  since,  now  that  her 
listress  was  restored  to  health,  she  was  called  on  to 
Lilfil  her  vow. 

One  morning  Yakob  vanished  from  the  yard.  He 
ad  taken  money  from  the  box  where  the  cash  was 
,ept  for  buying  the  oil  for  the  lamps  kept  burning 
1  front  of  the  ikons,  which  were  in  his  charge,  and 
ad  bought  the  promised  candle,  which  he  set  up 
efore  the  sacred  picture  in  the  village  church  at 
arly  Mass.  As  there  was  a  small  surplus  he  crossed 
imself  piously,  then  betook  himself  to  the  poorer 
uarter  of  the  town,  where  he  spent  his  riches,  and 
hen  reeled  home  again  on  his  unsteady  legs,  displaying 


276  THE    PRECIPICE 

a  slight  redness  on  his  nose  and  his  cheeks.  Tatiana 
Markovna  happened  to  meet  him.  She  immediately 
smelt  the  brandy,  and  asked  in  surprise  what  he  had 
been  doing.  He  replied  that  he  had  been  to  church, 
bowed  his  head  devoutly,  and  folded  his  arms  on  his 
breast. 

He  explained  to  Vassilissa  that  he  had  done  his 
duty  in  fulfilling  his  vow.  She  looked  at  him  in 
perturbation,  for  in  her  anxieties  about  her  mistress 
and  in  the  preparations  for  the  wedding  she  had  not 
thought  of  her  own  vow.  Here  was  Yakob  who 
had  fulfilled  his  and  was  going  about  with  a  pious 
jubilant  air,  and  reminding  her  of  her  promised 
pilgrimage  to  Kiev. 

"  I  don't  feel  strong  enough,"  she  complained. 
"  I  have  hardly  any  bones  in  me,  only  flesh.  Lord, 
have  mercy  on  me  !  " 

For  thirty  years  she  had  been  steadily  putting 
on  flesh  ;  she  lived  on  coffee,  tea,  bread,  potatoes 
and  gherkins,  and  often  fish,  even  at  those  times  of 
the  year  when  meat  was  permitted.  In  her  distress 
she  went  to  Father  Vassili,  to  ask  him  to  set  her 
doubts  at  rest.  She  had  heard  that  kind  priests  were 
willing  to  release  people  from  their  vows  or  to  allow 
substituted  vows,  where  weakness  of  body  hindered 
the  performance  of  the  original. 

"  As  you  agreed  to  go,  you  must  go,"  said  Father 
Vassili. 

"  I  agreed  because  I  was  frightened,  Little  Father. 
I  thought  that  Mistress  would  die,  but  she  was  well 
again  in  three  days  ;  why  then  should  I  make  the  long 
journey  ?  " 

"  Yes,  there  is  no  short  road  to  Kiev.  If  you  had 
no  inclination  to  go  you  should  not  have  registered 
the  vow." 

"  The  inclination  is  there,  but  strength  fails  me. 
I  suffer  from  want  of  breath  even  when  I  go  to  church. 
I  am  already  in  my  seventh  decade.  Father.  It 
would  be  different  if  Mistress  had  been  three  months 
in  bed,  if  she  had  received  the  sacraments  and  the 
last  unction,  and    then  had  been  restored  to  health 


THE    PRECIPICE  277 

by  God  in  answer  to  my  prayer  ;  then  I  would  have 
gone  to  Kiev  on  my  hands  and  knees." 

"  Well,  what  is  to  be  done  ?  "  asked  Father  Vassili, 
smiling. 

"  Now  I  should  like  to  promise  something  different. 
I  will  lay  a  fast  on  myself,  never  to  eat  another  bit 
of  meat  until  I  die." 

"  Do  you  like  meat  ?  " 

"  I  can't  bear  the  sight  of  it,  and  have  weaned 
myself  from  eating  it." 

"  A  difficult  vow,"  said  Father  Vassili  with  another 
smile,  "  must  be  replaced  by  something  as  difficult 
or  more  difficult,  but  you  have  chosen  the  easiest. 
Isn't  there  anything  that  it  would  be  hard  for  you 
to  carry  out  ?     Think  again  !  " 

Vassilissa  thought,  and  said  there  was  nothing. 

"  Very  well  then,  you  must  go  to  Kiev." 

"  I  would  gladly  go,  if  I  were  not  so  stout." 

"  How  can  your  vow  be  eased  ?  "  said  Father 
Vassili,  thinking  aloud.     "  What  do  you  live  on  ?  " 

"  On  tea,  coffee,  mushroom  soup,  potatoes.  .  .  ." 

"  Do  you  like  coffee  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Little  Father." 

"  Abstain  from  coffee," 

"  That  is  nearly  as  bad,"  she  sighed,  "  as  going  to 
Kiev.     What  am  I  to  live  on  ?  " 

"  On  meat." 

It  seemed  to  her  that  he  was  laughing,  and  indeed 
he  did  laugh  when  he  saw  her  face. 

"  You  don't  like  it,"  he  said.  "  But  make  the 
sacrifice." 

"  What  good  docs  it  do  me,  and  to  eat  meat  is  not 
fasting.  Father." 

"  Eat  it  on  the  days  when  it  may  be  eaten.  The 
good  it  will  do  is  that  you  will  lay  on  less  fat.  In 
six  months  you  are  absolved  of  your  vow." 

She  went  away  in  some  distress,  and  began  to  execute 
the  priest's  instructions  the  next  day,  turning  her  nose 
sadly  away  from  the  steaming  coffee  that  she  brought 
her  mistress  in  the  morning. 

In  about  ten  days  Marfinka  returned  in  company 


278  THE    PRECIPICE 

with  her  fiance  and  his  mother.  Vikentev  and  she 
brought  their  laughter,  their  gaiety  and  their  merry 
talk  into  the  quiet  house.  But  within  a  couple  of 
hours  after  their  arrival  they  had  become  quiet  and 
timid,  for  their  gaiety  had  aroused  a  melancholy 
echo,  as  in  an  empty  house.  A  mist  lay  on  everything. 
Even  the  birds  had  ceased  to  fly  to  the  spot  where 
Marfinka  fed  them  ;  swallows,  starlings  and  all  the 
feathered  inhabitants  of  the  park  were  gone,  and  not 
a  stork  was  to  be  seen  flying  over  the  Volga.  The 
gardener  had  thrown  away  the  withered  flowers  ;  the 
space  in  front  of  the  house,  usually  radiant  and  sweet 
with  flowers,  now  showed  black  rings  of  newly-dug  earth 
framed  in  yellowish  grass.  The  branches  of  some  of 
the  trees  had  been  enveloped  in  bast,  and  the  trees 
in  the  park  became  barer  with  every  day.  The  Volga 
grew  darker  and  darker,  as  if  the  river  were  preparing 
for  its  icy  winter  sleep. 

Nature  does  not  create,  but  it  does  emphasise  human 
melancholy.  Marfinka  asked  herself  w^hat  had 
happened  to  everybody  in  the  house,  as  she  looked 
doubtfully  round  her.  Even  her  own  pretty  little 
room  did  not  look  so  gay  ;  it  was  as  if  Vera's  nervous 
silence  had  invaded  it. 

,  Her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  Why  was  everything 
so  different  ?  Why  had  Veroshka  come  over  from 
the  other  house,  and  why  did  she  walk  no  more  in  the 
field  or  in  the  thicket  ?     Where  was  Tiet  Nikonich  ? 

They  all  looked  worried,  and  hardly  spoke-  to  one 
another ;  they  did  not  even  tease  Marfinka  and  her 
fiance.  Vera  and  grandmother  were  silent.  What 
had  happened  to  the  whole  house  ?  It  was  the  first 
trouble  that  Marfinka  had  encountered  in  her  happy 
life,  and  she  fell  in  unconsciously  with  the  serious,  dull 
tone  that  obtained  in  Malinovka. 

Silence,  reserve  and  melancholy  were  equally  foreign 
to  Vikentev's  nature.  He  urged  his  mother  to 
persuade  Tatiana  Markovna  to  allow  Marfinka  to  go 
back  with  them  to  Kolchino  until  the  w^edding  at  the 
end  of  October.  To  his  surprise  permission  was 
given  easily  and  quickly,  and  the  young  people  flew 


/  THE    PRECIPICE  279 

like  swallows  from  autumn  to  the  warmth,  light,  and 
brightness  of  their  future  home. 

Raisky  drove  over  to  fetch  Tiet  Nikonich.  He  was 
haggard  and  yellow,  and  hardly  stirred  from  his  place, 
and  he  only  gradually  recovered,  like  a  child  whose 
toys  have  been  restored  to  him,  when  he  saw  Tatiana 
Markovna  in  her  usual  surroundings  and  found  himself 
in  the  middle  of  the  picture,  either  at  table  with  his 
serviette  tucked  in  his  collar,  or  in  the  window  on  the 
stool  near  herchair,  with  a  cup  of  tea  before  him  poured 
out  by  her  hands. 

Another  member  was  added  to  the  family  circle  at 
Malinovka,  for  Raisky  brought  Koslov  to  dinner  one 
day,  to  receive  the  heartiest  of  welcomes.  Tatiana 
Markovna  had  the  tact  not  to  let  the  poor  forsaken 
man  see  that  she  was  aware  of  his  trouble.  She  greeted 
him  with  a  jest. 

"  Why  have  you  not  been  near  us  for  so  long,  Leonti 
Ivanovich  ?  Borushka  says  that  I  don't  know  how 
to  entertain  you,  and  that  you  don't  like  my  table. 
Did  you  tell  him  so  ?  " 

"  How  should  I  not  like  it  ?  When  did  I  say  such 
a  thing  ?  "  he  asked  Raisky  severely.  "  You  are 
joking  !  "  he  went  on,  as  everybody  laughed,  and  he 
himself  had  to  smile. 

He  had  had  time  to  find  his  own  bearings,  and 
had  begun  to  realise  the  necessity  of  hiding  his  grief 
from  others. 

"  Yes,  it  is  a  long  time  since  I  was  here.  My  wife 
has  gone  to  Moscow  to  visit  her  relations,  so  that  I 
could  not  ..." 

"  You  ought  to  have  come  straight  to  us,"  observed 
Tatiana  Markovna,  "  when  it  was  so  dull  by  yourself 
at  home." 

"  I  expect  her,  and  am  always  afraid  she  may  come 
when  I  am  not  at  home." 

"  You  would  soon  hear  of  her  arrival,  and  she  must 
pass  our  house.  From  the  windows  of  the  old  house 
we  can  see  who  comes  along  the  road,  and  we  will 
stop  her." 

"It  is  true  that  the  road  to  Moscow  can  be  seen 


28o  THE    PRECIPICE 

from  there,"  said  Koslov,  looking  quickly,  and  almost 
happily,   at   his   hostess. 

"  Come  and  stay  with  us,"  she  said. 

"  I  simply  will  not  let  you  go  to-day,"  said  Raisky. 
"  I  am  bored  by  myself,  and  we  will  move  over  into 
the  old  house.  After  Marfinka's  wedding  I  am  going 
away,  and  you  will  be  Grandmother's  and  Vera's 
first  minister,  friend  and  protector." 

"  Thank  you.     If  I  am  not  in  the  way.  ..." 

"  How  can  you  talk  like  that.  You  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  yourself." 

"  Forgive  me,  Tatiana  Markovna." 

"  Better  eat  your  dinner  ;  the  soup  is  getting  cold." 

"  I  am  hungry  too,"  he  said  suddenly,  seizing  his 
spoon.  He  ate  his  soup  silently,  looking  round  him 
as  if  he  were  seeking  the  road  to  Moscow,  and  he 
preserved  the  same  demeanour  all  through  the  meal. 

"  It  is  so  quiet  here,"  he  said  after  dinner,  as  he 
looked  out  of  the  window.  "  There  is  still  some  green 
left,  and  the  air  is  so  fresh.  Listen,  Boris  Pavlovich, 
I  should  like  to  bring  the  library  here." 

"  As  you  like.  To-morrow,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned. 
It  is  your  possession  to  do  as  you  please  with." 

"  What  should  I  do  with  it  now  ?  I  will  have  it 
brought  over,  so  that  I  can  take  care  of  it ;  else  in  the 
end  that  man  Mark  will  ..." 

Raisky  strode  about  the  room,  Vera's  eyes  were 
fixed  on  her  needlework,  and  Tatiana  ]\Iarkovna  went 
to  the  window.  Shortly  after  this  Raisky  took  Leonti 
to  the  old  house,  to  show  him  the  room  that  Tatiana 
Markovna  had  arranged  for  him.  Leonti  went  from 
one  window  to  another  to  see  which  of  them  commanded 
a  view  of  the  Moscow  road. 


CHAPTER  XXXH 

On  a  misty  autumn  day,  as  Vera  sat  at  work  in  her 
room,  Yakob  brought  her  a  letter  written  on  blue 
paper,  which  had  been  brought  by  a  lad  who  had 
instructions  to  wait  for  an  answer.  When  she  had 
recovered  from  the  first  shock  at  the  sight  of  the  letter, 
she  took  it,  laid  it  on  the  table,  and  dismissed  Yakob. 
She  tried  to  go  on  with  her  work  but  her  hands  fell 
helplessly  on  her  lap. 

"  When  will  there  be  an  end  of  this  torture  ?  "  she 
whispered,  nervously.  Then  she  took  from  her  bureau 
the  earlier  unopened  blue  letter,  laid  it  by  the  side  of 
the  other,  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands.  What 
answer  could  he  expect  from  her,  she  asked  herself, 
when  they  had  parted  for  ever  ?  Surely  he  dare  not 
call  her  once  more.  If  so,  an  answer  must  be  given, 
for  the  m.essenger  was  waiting.  She  opened  the 
letters  and  read  the  earlier  one  : — 

"  Are  we  really  not  to  meet  again,  Vera  ?  That  would  be 
incredible.  A  few  days  ago  there  would  have  been  reason  in 
our  separation,  now  it  is  a  useless  sacrifice,  hard  for  both  of 
us.  We  have  striven  obstinately  with  one  another  for  a 
whole  year  for  the  prize  of  happiness  ;  and  now  that  the  goal 
is  attained  you  run  away.  Yet  it  is  you  who  spoke  of  an 
eternal  love.    Is  that  logical  ?  " 

"  Logical  !  "  she  repeated,  but  she  collected  her 
courage  and  read  on. 

"  I  am  now  permitted  to  choose  another  place  of  residence. 
But  now  I  cannot  leave  you,  for  it  would  be  dishonourable. 
You  cannot  think  that  I  am  proud  of  my  victory,  and  that  it 
is  easy  for  me  to  go  away.  I  cannot  allow  you  to  harbour 
such  an  idea.     I  cannot  leave  you,  because  you  love  me." 

Once  more  she  interrupted  her  reading,  but  resumed 
it  with  an  effort — 


282  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  And  because  my  whole  being  is  in  a  fever.  Let  us 
be  happy,  Vera.  Be  convinced  that  our  conflict,  our  quarrel- 
hng  was  nothing  but  the  mask  of  passion.  The  mask  has 
fahen,  and  we  have  no  other  ground  of  dispute.  In  reaUty 
we  have  long  been  one.  You  ask  for  a  love  which  shall 
be  eternal  ;   many  desire  that,   but  it  is  an  impossibility." 

She  stopped  her  reading  to  tell  herself  with  a  pitying 
smile  that  his  conception  of  love  was  of  a  perpetual 
fever. 

"  My  mistake  was  in  openly  asserting  this  truth,  which  hfe 
itself  would  have  revealed  in  due  course.  From  this  time 
onwards,  I  will  not  assail  your  convictions,  for  it  is  not  they,  but 
passion,  which  is  the  essential  factor  in  our  situation.  Let  us 
enjoy  our  happiness  in  silence.  I  hope  that  you  will  agree 
to  this  logical  solution." 

Vera  smiled  bitterly  as  she  continued  to  read. 

"  They  would  hardly  allow  you  to  go  away  with  me,  and 
indeed  that  is  hardly  possible.  Nothing  but  a  wild  passion 
could  lead  you  to  do  such  a  thing,  and  I  do  not  expect  it. 
Other  convictions,  indifferent  to  me,  would  be  needed  to 
impel  you  to  this  course  ;  you  would  be  faced  with  a  future 
which  fulfils  neither  your  own  wishes  nor  the  demands  of  your 
relations,  for  mine  is  an  uncertain  existence,  without  home, 
hearth  or  possessions.  But  if  you  think  you  can  persuade 
your  Grandmother,  we  will  be  betrothed,  and  I  will  remain 
here  until — for  an  indefinite  time.  A  separation  now  would 
be  like  a  bad  comedy,  in  which  the  unprofitable  role  is  yours, 
at  which  Raisky,  when  he  hears  of  it,  will  be  the  first  to  laugh. 
I  warn  you  again  now,  as  I  did  before.  Send  your  reply  to 
the  address  of  my  landlady,  Sekletaia  Burdalakov." 

In  spite  of  her  exhaustion  after  reading  this  epistle 
Vera  took  up  the  one  which  Yakob  had  just  brought. 
It  was  hastily  written  in  pencil. 

"  Every  day  I  have  been  wandering  about  by  the  precipice, 
hoping  to  see  you  in  answer  to  my  earlier  letter.  I  have 
only  just  heard  by  chance  of  your  indisposition.  Come, 
Vera.  If  you  are  ill,  write  two  words,  and  I  will  come  myself 
to  the  old  house.  If  I  receive  no  answer  to-day,  I  will  expect 
you  to-morrow  at  five  o'clock  in  the  arbour.  I  must  know 
quickly  whether  I  should  go  or  stay.  But  I  do  not  think  we 
shall  part.  In  any  case,  I  expect  either  you  or  an  answer. 
If  you  are  ill,  I  will  make  my  way  into  your  house." 


THE    PRECIPICE  283 

Terrified  by  his  threat  of  coming,  she  seized  pen 
and  paper,  but  her  hands  trembled  too  much  to  allow 
her  to  write. 

"  I  cannot,"  she  exclaimed.  "  I  have  no 
strength,  I  am  stifled  !  How  shall  I  begin,  and  what 
can  I  write  ?  I  have  forgotten  how  I  used  to  write 
to  him,  to  speak  to  him." 

She  sent  for  Yakob,  and  told  him  to  dismiss  the 
messenger  and  to  say  that  an  answer  would  follow 
later.  She  wondered  as  she  walked  slowly  back  to 
her  room,  when  she  would  find  strength  that  day  to 
write  to  him  ;  what  she  should  say.  She  could  only 
repeat  that  she  could  not,  and  would  not,  and 
to-morrow  she  told  herself,  he  would  wait  for  her  in  the 
arbour,  he  would  be  wild  with  disappointment,  and 
if  he  repeats  his  signals  with  the  rifle  he  will  come 
into  conflict  with  the  servants,  and  eventually  with 
grandmother  herself.  She  tried  to  write,  but  threw 
the  pen  aside  ;  then  she  thought  she  would  go  to  him 
herself,  tell  him  all  she  had  to  say,  and  then  leave  him. 
As  once  before  her  hands  sought  in  vain  her  mantilla, 
her  scarf,  and  without  knowing  what  she  did,  she 
sank  helplessly  down  on  the  divan. 

If  she  told  her  grandmother  the  necessary  steps 
would  be  taken,  but  otherwise  the  letters  would  begin 
again.  Or  should  she  send  her  cousin,  who  was  after 
all  her  natural  and  nearest  friend  and  protector,  to 
convince  Mark  that  there  was  no  hope  for  him  ?  But 
she  considered  that  he  also  was  in  the  toils  of  passion, 
and  that  it  would  be  hard  for  him  to  execute  the 
mission,  that  he  might  be  involved  in  a  heated  dispute, 
which  might  develop  into  a  dangerous  situation.  She 
turned  to  Tushin,  whom  she  could  trust  to  accomplish 
the  errand  effectively  without  blundering.  But  it 
seemed  impossible  to  set  Tushin  face  to  face  with  the 
rival  who  had  robbed  him  of  his  desires.  Yet  she  saw 
no  alternative.  No  delay  was  possible  ;  to-morrow 
would  bring  another  letter,  and  then,  failing  an 
answer,  Mark  himself. 

After  brief  consideration,  she  wrote  a  note  to  Tushin, 
and  this  time  the  same  pen  covered  easily  and  quickly 


284  THE    PRECIPICE 

the  same  paper  that  had  been  so  impracticable  half 
an  hour  before.  She  asked  him  to  come  and  see  her 
the  next  morning. 

Until  now  Vera  had  been  accustomed  to  guard 
her  own  secrets,  and  to  exercise  an  undivided  rule  in 
the  world  of  her  thoughts.  If  she  had  given  her 
confidence  to  the  priest's  wife,  it  was  out  of  charity. 
She  had  confided  to  her  the  calendar  of  her  every- 
day/ life,  its  events,  its  emotions  and  impressions  ; 
she  had  told  her  of  her  secret  meetings  with  Mark, 
but  concealed  from  her  the  catastrophe,  telhng  her 
simply  that  all  was  over  between  them.  As  the 
priest's  wife  was  ignorant  of  the  denouement  of  the 
story  at  the  foot  of  the  precipice,  she  put  down  Vera's 
illness  to  grief  at  their  parting. 

Vera  loved  Marfinka  as  she  loved  Natalie  Ivanovna, 
not  as  a  comrade,  but  as  a  child.  In  more  peaceful 
times  she  would  again  confide  the  details  of  her  life 
to  Natalie  Ivanovna  as  before  ;  but  in  a  crisis  she 
went  to  Tatiana  Markovna,  sent  for  Tushin,  or  sought 
help  from  her  cousin  Boris. 

Now  she  put  the  letters  in  her  pocket,  found  her 
aunt,  and  sat  down  beside  her. 

"  What  has  happened.  Vera  ?     You  are  upset." 

"  Not  upset,  but  worried.  I  have  received  letters, 
from  there." 

"  From  there  I  "  repeated  Tatiana  Markovna,  turning 
pale. 

"  The  first  was  written  some  time  ago,  but  I  have 
only  just  opened  it,  and  the  second  was  brought  to 
me  to-day,"  she  said,  laying  them  both  on  the  table. 

"  You  want  me  to  know  what  is  in  them  ?  " 

"  Read  them.  Grandmother." 

Tatiana  Markovna  put  on  her  glasses,  and  tried  to 
read  them,  but  she  found  that  she  could  not  decipher 
them,  and  eventually  Vera  had  to  read  them.  She 
read  in  a  whisper,  suppressing  a  phrase  here  and 
there  ;  then  she  crumpled  them  up  and  put  them 
back  in  her  pocket. 

"  What  do  you  think,  Veroshka  ?  "  asked  Tatiana 


THE    PRECIPICE  285 

Markovna,  uncertainly.  "  He'  is  willing  to  be  be- 
trothed and  to  remain  here.  Perhaps  if  he  is  prepared 
to  live  like  other  people,  if  he  loves  you,  and  if  you 
think  you  could  be  happy " 

"  He  calls  betrothal  a  comedy,  and  yet  suggests  it. 
He  thinks  that  only  that  is  needed  to  make  me  happy. 
Grandmother,  you  know  my  frame  of  mind  ;  so  why 
do  you  ask  me  ?  " 

"  You  came  to  me  to  ask  me  what  you  should  decide," 
began  Tatiana  Markovna  with  some  hesitatiorl  as  she 
did  not  yet  understand  why  Vera  had  read  her  the 
letters.  She  was  incensed  at  Mark's  audacity,  and 
feared  that  Vera  herself  might  be  seized  with  a  return 
of  her  passion.  For  these  reasons  she  concealed  her 
anxiety. 

"  It  was  not  for  that  that  I  came  to  you,  Grand- 
mother. You  know  that  my  mind  has  long  been  made 
up.  I  will  have  no  more  to  do  with  him.  And  if  I 
am  to  breathe  freely  again,  and  to  hope  to  be  able  to 
live  once  more,  it  is  under  the  condition  that  I  hear 
nothing  of  him,  that  I  can  forget  everything.  He 
reminds  me  of  what  has  happened,  calls  me  down 
there,  seeks  to  allure  me  with  talk  of  happiness,  will 
marry  me  .  .  .  Gracious  Heaven  !  Understand, 
Grandmother,"  she  went  on,  as  Tatiana  Markovna's 
anxiety  could  no  longer  be  concealed,  "  that  if  by  a 
miracle  he  now  became  the  man  I  hoped  he  would  be, 
if  he  now  were  to  believe  all  that  I  believe,  and  loved 
me  as  I  desired  to  love  him,  even  if  all  this  happened 
I  would  not  turn  aside  from  my  path  at  his  call." 
No  song  could  have  been  sweeter  to  the  ears  of  Tatiana 
Markovna.  "  I  should  not  be  happy  with  him,"  Vera 
continued.  "  I  could  never  forget  what  he  had  been, 
or  believe  in  the  new  Mark.  I  have  endured  more  than 
enough  to  kill  any  passion.  There  is  nothing  left  in 
my  heart  but  a  cold  emptiness,  and  but  for  you, 
Grandmother,  I  should  despair." 

She  wept  convulsively,  her  head  pressed  against 
her  aunt's  shoulder. 

"  Do  not  recall  your  sufferings,  Veroshka,  and  do 


286  THE    PRECIPICE 

not  distress  yourself  unnecessarily.  We  agreed  never 
to  speak  of  it  again." 

"  But  for  the  letters  I  should  not  have  spoken,  for 
I  need  peace.  Take  me  away,  Grandmother,  hide  me, 
or  I  shall  die.     He  calls  me — to  that  place." 

Tatiana  Markovna  rose  and  drew  Vera  into  the 
armchair,  while  she  drew  herself  to  her  full  height. 

"  If  that  is  so,"  she  said,  "  if  he  thinks  he  can 
continue  to  annoy  you,  he  will  have  to  reckon  with 
me.  I  will  shield  and  protect  you.  Console  yourself, 
child,  you  will  hear  no  more  of  him." 

"  What  will  you  do  ?  "  she  asked  in  amazement, 
springing  from  her  chair. 

"  He  summons  you.  Well,  I  will  go  to  the  rendez- 
vous in  your  place,  and  we  will  see  if  he  calls  you 
any  more,  or  comes  here,  or  writes  to  you."  She 
strode  up  and  down  the  room  trembling  with  anger. 
"  At  what  time  does  he  go  to  the  arbour  to-morrow. 
At  five,  I  think  ?  "  she  asked  sharply. 

"  Grandmother,  you  don't  understand,"  said  Vera 
gently,  taking  her  hand.  "  Calm  yourself.  I  make 
no  accusation  against  him.  Never  forget  that  I 
alone  am  guilty.  He  does  not  know  what  has  hap- 
pened to  me  during  these  days,  and  therefore  he 
writes.  Now  it  is  necessary  to  explain  to  him  how 
ill  and  spiritless  I  am,  and  you  want  to  fight.  I  don't 
wish  that.  I  would  have  written  to  him,  but  could 
not ;  and  I  have  not  the  strength  to  see  him.  I  would 
have  asked  Ivan  Ivanovich,  but  you  know  how  he 
cares  for  me  and  what  hopes  he  cherishes.  To  bring 
him  into  contact  with  a  man  who  has  destroyed  those 
hopes  is  impossible." 

"  Impossible,"  agreed  Tatiana  Markovna.  "  God 
knows  what  might  happen  between  them.  You  have 
a  near  relation,  who  knows  all  and  loves  you  like  a 
sister,  Borushka." 

"  If  that  were  how  he  loved  me,"  thought  Vera. 
She  did  not  mean  to  reveal  Raisky's  passion  for  her, 
which  remained  her  secret. 

"  Perhaps  I  will  ask  my  cousin,"  she  said.  "  Or  I 
will  collect  my  strength,  and  answer  the  letter  myself, 


THE    PRECIPICE  287 

so  as  to  make  him  understand  my  position  and 
renounce  all  hope.  But  in  the  mean  time,  I  must  let 
him  know  so  that  he  does  not  come  to  the  arbour  to 
wait  in  vain  for  me." 

"  I  will  do  that,"  struck  in  Tatiana  Markovna. 

"  But  you  will  not  go  yourself  ?  "  asked  Vera,  looking 
direct  into  her  eyes.  "  Remember  that  I  make  no 
complaint  against  him,  and  wish  him  no  evil." 

"  Nor  do  I,"  returned  her  aunt,  looking  away. 
"  You  may  be  assured  I  will  not  go  myself,  but  I 
will  arrange  it  so  that  he  does  not  await  you  in  the 
arbour." 

"  Forgive  me,  Grandmother,  for  this  fresh  disturb- 
ance." 

Tatiana  Markovna  sighed,  and  kissed  her  niece. 
Vera  left  the  room  in  a  calmer  frame  of  mind,  wondering 
what  means  her  aunt  proposed  to  take  to  prevent 
Mark  from  coming  next  day  to  the  arbour. 

Next  day  at  noon  Vera  heard  horse's  hoofs  at  the 
gate.  When  she  looked  out  of  the  window  her  eyes 
shone  with  pleasure  for  a  moment,  as  she  saw  Tushin 
ride  into  the  courtyard.     She  went  to  meet  him. 

"  I  saw  you  from  the  window,"  she  said,  adding, 
as  she  looked  at  him,  "  Are  you  well  ?  " 

"What  else  should  I  be?"  he  answered  with 
embarrassment,  turning  his  head  away  so  that  she 
should  not  notice  the  signs  of  suffering  on  his  face. 
"  And  you  ?  " 

"  I  fell  ill,  and  my  illness  might  have  taken  an 
ill  turn,  but  now  it  is  over.  Where  is  Grandmother  ?  " 
she  asked,  turning  to  Vassilissa. 

"  The  Mistress  went  out  after  tea,  and  took  Savili 
with  her." 

Vera  invited  Tushin  to  her  room,  but  for  the  moment 
both  were  embarrassed. 

"  Have  you  forgiven  me  ?  "  asked  Vera  after  a 
pause,  without  looking  at  him. 

"  Forgiven  you  ?  " 

"  For  all  you  have  endured.  Ivan  Ivanovich,  you 
have  changed.  I  can  see  that  you  carry  a  heavy 
heart.     Your  suffering  and  Grandmother's  is  a  hard 


288  THE    PRECIPICE 

penance  for  me.     But  for  you  three,  Grandmother, 
you,  and  Cousin  Boris,  I  could  not  survive." 

"  And  yet  you  say  that  you  give  us  pain.  Look 
at  me  ;  I  think  I  am  better  already.  If  you  would 
only  recover  your  own  peace  of  mind  it  w^ill  all  be 
over  and  forgotten." 

"  I  had  begun  to  recover,  and  to  forget.  Marfinka's 
marriage  is  close  at  hand,  there  was  a  great  deal  to 
do  and  my  attention  was  distracted,  but  yester- 
day I  was  violently  excited,  and  am  not  quite  calm 
now." 

"  What  has  happened  ?  Can  I  serve  you.  Vera 
Vassilievna  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  accept  your  service." 

"  Because  you  do  not  think  me  able  .  ,  ." 

"Not  that.  You  know  all  that  has  happened  ; 
read  what  I  have  received,"  she  said,  taking  the 
letters  from  a  box,  and  handing  them  to  him. 

Tushin  read,  and  turned  as  pale  as  he  had  been 
when  he  arrived. 

"  You  are  right.  In  this  matter  my  assistance  is 
superfluous.     You  alone  can  ..." 

"  I  cannot,  Ivan  Ivanovich,"  she  said,  while  he 
looked  at  her  interrogativel\^  "  I  can  neither  write 
a  word  to  him,  nor  see  him  ;  ^^et  I  must  give  him  an 
answer.  He  will  wait  there  in  the  arbour,  or  if  I 
leave  him  without  an  answer  he  will  come  here,  and 
I  can  do  nothing." 

"  What  kind  of  answer  ?  " 

"  You  ask  the  same  question  as  Grandmother. 
Yet  you  have  read  the  letter !  He  promises  me 
happiness,  will  submit  to  a  betrothal.  Yesterday 
I  tried  to  write  to  him  to  tell  him  that  I  was  not 
happy,  and  should  not  be  happy  after  betrothal, 
and  to  bid  him  farewell.  But  I  cannot  put  these 
lines  on  paper,  and  I  cannot  commission  anyone  to 
deliver  my  answer.  Grandmother  flared  up  when 
she  read  the  letter,  and  I  fear  she  would  not  be  able 
to  restrain  her  feelings.     So  I  .  .  ." 

"  You  thought  of  me,"  said  Tushin,  standing  up. 
"  Tushin,   you  thought,   would  do  you   this  service, 


THE    PRECIPICE  289 

and  then  you  sent  for  me."  Pride,  joy,  and  affection 
shone  in  his  eyes. 

"  No,  Ivan  Ivanovich.  I  sent  for  you,  so  that 
you  might  be  at  my  side  in  these  difficult  hours. 
I  am  cahner  when  you  are  here.  But  I  will  not  send 
you — down  there,  I  will  not  inflict  on  you  this  last 
insult,  will  not  set  you  face  to  face  with  a  man,  who 
cannot  be  an  object  of  indifference  to  you — no,  no." 

Tushin  was  about  to  speak,  but  instead  he  stretched 
out  his  hands  in  silence,  and  Vera  looked  at  him  with 
mixed  feelings  of  gratitude  and  sorrow,  as  she  realised 
with  what  small  things  he  was  made  happy. 

"  Insult  !  "  he  said.  "  It  would  have  been  hard 
to  bear  if  you  were  to  send  me  to  him  with  an  olive 
branch,  to  bring  him  up  here  from  the  depths  of  the 
precipice.  But  even  though  that  dove-like  errand 
would  not  suit  me,  I  would  still  undertake  it  to  give 
you  peace,  if  I  thought  it  would  make  you  happy." 

"  Ivan  Ivanovich,"  replied  Vera,  hardly  restraining 
her  tears,  "  I  believe  you  would  have  done  it,  but 
I  would  never  send  you." 

"  But  now  I  am  not  asked  to  go  outside  my  role 
of  Bear ;  to  tell  him  what  you  cannot  write  to  him, 
Vera  Vassilievna,  would  give  me  happiness." 

She  reflected  that  this  was  all  the  happiness  with 
which  she  had  to  reward  him,  and  dropped  her  eyes. 
His  mood  changed  when  he  noticed  her  thoughtful, 
melancholy  air  ;  his  proud  bearing,  the  gleam  in  his 
eyes,  and  the  colour  in  his  face  disappeared.  He 
regretted  his  incautious  display  of  pleasure.  It  seemed 
to  him  that  his  delight  and  his  mention  of  the  word 
"  happiness  ! "  had  been  tantamount  to  a  renewal 
of  his  profession  of  love  and  the  offer  of  his  hand,  and 
had  betrayed  to  her  the  fact  that  he  rejoiced  selfishly 
at  her  breach  with  Mark. 

Vera  guessed  that  he  was  deceiving  himself  once 
more.  Her  heart,  her  feminine  instinct,  her  friendship, 
these  things  prevented  Tushin  from  abandoning  his 
hope ;  she  gave  what  she  could,  an  unconditional 
trust  and  a  boundless  esteem. 

"  Yes,  Ivan  Ivanovich,  I  see  now  that  I  have  placed 


290  THE    PRECIPICE 

my  hopes  on  you,  though  I  did  not  confess  it  to  myself, 
and  no  one  would  have  persuaded  me  to  ask  this 
service  of  you.  But  since  you  make  the  generous 
offer  yourself,  I  am  delighted,  and  thank  you  with 
all  my  heart.  No  one  can  help  me  as  you  do,  because 
no  one  else  loves  me  as  you  do." 

"  You  spoil  me.  Vera  Vassilievna,  when  you  talk 
like  that.     But  it  is  true  ;  you  read  my  very  soul." 

"  Will  it  not  be  hard  for  you  to  see  him." 

"  No,  I  shan't  faint,"  he  smiled. 

"  Go  at  five  o'clock  to  the  arbour  and  tell  him  ..." 
She  considered  a  moment,  then  scribbled  with  a 
pencil  what  she  had  said  she  wished  to  say  without 
adding  a  word.  "  Here  is  my  answer,"  she  said, 
handing  him  the  open  envelope.  "  You  may  add 
anything  you  think  necessary,  for  you  know  all. 
And  don't  forget,  Ivan  Ivanovich,  that  I  blame  him 
for  nothing,  and  consequently,"  she  added,  looking 
awa3^  "  you  may  leave  your  whip  behind." 

"  Ver}^  well,"  he  said  between  his  teeth. 

"  Forgive  me,"  said  Vera,  offering  her  hand.  "  I 
do  not  say  it  as  a  reproach.  I  breathe  more  freely 
now  that  I  have  told  you  what  I  wish,  and  what  I 
don't  wish  in  your  interview." 

"  And  you  thought  I  needed  the  hint  ?  " 

"  Pardon  a  sick  woman,"  she  said,  and  he  pressed 
her  hand  again. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

A  LITTLE  later  Tatiana  Markovna  and  Raisky  returned 
to  the  house.  Raisky  and  Tushin  were  embarrassed 
in  one  another's  presence,  and  found  it  difficult  to 
talk  naturally  about  the  simplest  things.  But  at 
the  dinner-table  the  real  sympathy  between  them 
conquered  the  awkwardness  of  the  situation.  They 
looked  one  another  straight  in  the  eyes  and  read  there 
a  mutual  confidence.     After  dinner  Raiskv  went  to 


THE    PRECIPICE  291 

his  room,  and  Tushin  excused  himself  on  the  ground 
of  business.     Vera's  thoughts  followed  him. 

It  was  nearly  five  o'clock  when  he  was  trying  to 
find  his  direction  in  the  thicket.  Although  he  was 
no  stranger  there  he  seemed  not  to  be  able  to  find 
what  he  sought ;  he  looked  from  side  to  side  where 
the  bushes  grew  more  thickly,  certain  that  he  must 
be  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  arbour.  He  stood  still 
and  looked  impatiently  at  his  watch.  It  was  nearly 
five  o'clock,  and  neither  the  arbour  nor  Mark  were 
visible. 

Suddenly  he  heard  a  rustle  in  the  distance,  and 
among  the  young  pines  a  figure  appeared  and  dis- 
appeared alternately.  Mark  was  approaching,  and 
reached  the  place  where  Tushin  was  standing.  They 
looked  at  one  another  a  full  minute  when  they  met. 

"  Where  is  the  arbour  ?  "  said  Mark  at  last. 

"  I  don't  exactly  know  in  which  direction.  .  .  ." 

"  In  which  direction  ?  We  are  standing  on  the 
spot  where  it  was  still  standing  yesterday  morning." 

The  arbour  had  vanished  to  allow  of  the  literal 
carrying  out  of  Tatiana  Markovna's  promise  that 
Mark  should  not  wait  for  Vera  in  the  arbour.  An 
hour  after  her  conversation  with  Vera  she  had  descended 
the  precipice,  accompanied  by  Savili  and  five  peasants 
with  axes,  and  within  two  hours  the  arbour  had  been 
carried  away,  the  peasant  women  and  children  helping 
to  remove  beams  and  boards.  Next  day  the  site 
of  the  arbour  was  levelled,  covered  with  turf,  and 
planted  with  young  fir  trees.  "If  I  had  had  the 
arbour  removed  before,"  thought  Tatiana  Markovna 
regretfully,'  "  the  rascal  would  have  noticed  it,  and 
would  not  have  written  her  the  letters." 

The  situation  was  clear  enough  to  the  "  rascal  " 
now.  "  That  is  the  old  lady's  handiwork,"  he  thought, 
when  he  saw  the  young  fir  trees.  "  Her  Vera,  like 
a  weU-bred  young  woman,  has  told  her  the  whole 
story."  He  nodded  to  Tushin,  and  was  turning 
away,  when  he  saw  his  rival's  eyes  were  fixed  on  him. 

"  Are  you  out  for  a  stroll  ?  "  said  Mark.     "  Why 


292  THE    PRECIPICE 

do  you  look  at  me  in  that  extraordinary  fashion  ? 
I  suppose  you  are  visiting  at  Mahnovka." 

Tushin  rephed  drily  and  politely  that  he  was  a 
visitor  at  the  house,  and  had  come  down  especially  to 
see  Mark. 

"  To  see  me  ?  "  asked  Mark  quickly  with  a  look  of 
inquiry.  Has  he  heard  too  ?  he  wondered.  He 
remembered  that  Tushin  admired  Vera  and  wondered 
whether  the  "  Forest  Othello  "  was  meditating  tragedy 
and  murder  on  the  green. 

"  I  have  a  commission  for  you,"  said  Tushin,  handing 
him  the  letter. 

Without  betraying  any  sense  of  discomfort,  or  any 
sign  of  pain  or  rage  Mark  read  it  rapidly. 

"  Do  you  know  the  whole  story  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Allow  me  to  leave  that  question  unanswered,  and 
instead  to  ask  you  whether  you  have  any  answer  to 
give,"  said  Tushin. 

Mark  shook  his  head. 

"  I  take  it  for  granted,  that,  in  accordance  with 
her  wish,  you  will  leave  her  in  peace  in  the  future,  that 
you  will  not  remind  her  of  your  existence  in  any  way, 
will  not  write  to  her,  nor  visit  this  place.  .  .  ." 

"  What  business  is  it  of  yours  ?  "  asked  Mark. 
"  Are  you  her  declared  lover,  that  you  make  these 
demands  ?  " 

"  One  does  not  need  to  be  her  fiance  to  execute  a 
commission  ;  it  is  sufficient  to  be  a  friend." 

"  And  if  I  do  write,  or  do  come  here,  what  then  ?  " 
cried  Mark  angrily. 

"  I  cannot  say  how  Vera  Vassilievna  would  take  it, 
but  if  she  gives  me  another  commission,  I  will  under- 
take it,"  said  Tushin. 

"  You  are  an  obedient  friend,"  observed  Mark 
maliciously. 

"  Yes,  I  am  her  friend,"  replied  Tushin  seriousl}'. 
''  I  thought  her  wish  would  be  law  to  you  too.  She  is 
just  beginning  to  recover  from  a  serious  illness." 

"  W'hat  is  the  matter  with  her  ?  "  said  Mark,  gently 
for  him.  As  he  received  no  answer  he  went  on, 
"  Excuse  my  outburst,  but  you  see  my  agitation." 


THE    PRECIPICE  293 

"  Calmness  is  desirable  for  you  too.  Is  there  any 
answer  to  this  letter  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  need  your  assistance  for  that.  I  will 
write." 

"  She  will  not  receive  your  letter.  Her  state  of 
health  necessitates  quiet,  which  she  cannot  have  if  you 
force  yourself  on  her.  I  tell  you  what  was  told  me, 
and  what  I  have  seen  for  myself." 

"  Do  you  wish  her  well  ?  "  asked  Mark. 

"I  do." 

"  You  see  that  she  loves  me.     She  has  told  3''ou  so." 

"  She  has  not  said  so  to  me  ;  indeed  she  never 
spoke  of  love.  She  gave  me  the  letter  I  handed  you, 
and  asked  me  to  make  it  clear  that  she  did  not  wish, 
and  was  not  indeed  in  a  condition  to  see  you  or  to 
receive  any  letter  from  you." 

"  How  ridiculous  to  make  herself  and  other  people 
suffer.  If  you  are  her  friend  you  can  relieve  her  of  her 
misery,  her  illness,  and  her  collapse  of  strength. 
The  old  lad\^  has  broken  down  the  arbour,  but  she  has 
not  destroyed  passion,  and  passion  will  break  Vera. 
You  say  yourself  she  is  ill." 

"  I  did  not  say  that  passion  was  the  cause  of  her 
illness." 

"  What  can  have  made  her  ill  ?  "  asked  Mark. 

"  Your  letters.  You  expect  her  in  the  arbour,  and 
threaten  to  come  to  her  yourself.  That  she  cannot 
endure,  and  has  asked  me  to  tell  you  so." 

"  She  says  that,  but  in  reality.  .  .  ." 

"  She  always  speaks  the  truth." 

''  Why  did  she  give  you  this  commission  ?  " 
Receiving  no  answer,  Mark  continued  :  "  You  have 
her  confidence,  and  can  therefore  tell  her  how  strange 
it  is  to  refuse  happiness.  Advise  her  to  put  an  end  to 
the  wretched  situation,  to  renounce  her  Grandmother's 
morality,  and  then  I  propose.  .  .  ." 

' '  If  you  understood  Vera  Vassilievna,  you  would 
know  that  hers  is  one  of  those  natures  that  declines 
explanations  and  advice." 

"  You  execute  your  errands  most  brilliantly  and 
diplomatically,"  said  Mark  angrily. 


294  THE    PRECIPICE 

Tushin  looked  at  him  without  replying,  and  his 
calm  silence  enraged  Mark.  He  saw  in  the  disappear- 
ance of  the  arbour  and  the  appearance  on  the  scene  of 
Tushin  as  a  mediator,  the  certain  end  of  his  hopes. 
Vera's  hesitation  was  over,  and  she  was  now  firmly 
determined   on  separation. 

He  was  enraged  by  his  consciousness  that  Vera's 
illness  was  really  not  the  result  of  her  infatuation  for 
him,  which  she  would  not  have  confessed  to  her  aunt, 
much  less  to  Tushin.  Mark  knew  her  obstinacy, 
which  resisted  even  the  flame  of  passion,  and  on  that 
very  account  he  had,  almost  in  despair,  resigned  himself 
to  submit  to  a  formal  betrothal,  and  had  communi- 
cated his  decision  to  her,  had  consented  to  remain 
in  the  town  indefinitely,  that  is,  so  long  as  the  tie 
between  them  held.  Convinced  of  the  truth  of  his 
conception  of  love,  he  foresaw  that  in  the  course  of 
time  passion  would  grow  cool  and  disappear,  that 
they  would  not  for  ever  be  held  by  it,  and  then.  .  .  . 
Then,  he  was  convinced.  Vera  would  herself  recognise 
the  situation,  and  acquiesce  in  the  consequences. 

And  now  his  offer  had  become  superfluous  ;  no  one 
was  prepared  to  accept  it,  and  he  was  simply  to  be 
dismissed. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  to  do,"  he  said  proudly. 
"  I  cannot  find  any  answer  to  your  diplomatic  mission. 
Naturally,  I  shall  not  again  visit  the  arbour,  as  it 
has  ceased  to  exist." 

"  And  you  will  write  no  more  letters  either,"  added 
Tushin,  "  as  they  would  not  in  any  case  reach  her. 
Neither  will  you  come  to  the  house,  where  you  would 
not  be  admitted." 

"  Are  you  her  guardian  ?  " 

"  That  would  depend  on  Vera  Vassilievna's  wishes. 
There  is  a  mistress  of  the  house  who  commands  her 
servants.     I  take  it  that  you  accept  the  facts." 

"  The  devil  knows,"  cried  Mark,  "  how  ridiculous 
all  this  is.  "  Mankind  have  forged  chains  for  them- 
selves, and  make  martyrs  of  themselves."  Although 
he  still  justified  himself  in  making  no  reply,  he  felt 
that  his  position  was  untenable.     "  I  am  leaving  the 


THE    PRECIPICE  295 

place  shortly,"  he  said,  "  in  about  a  week's  time.  Can 
I  not  see  Vera — Vassilievna  for  a  minute  ?  " 

"  That  cannot  be  arranged,  because  she  is  ill." 

"  Is  any  pressure  being  put  upon  her  ?  " 

"  She  requires  only  one  medicine — not  to  be  reminded 
of  you." 

"  I  do  not  place  entire  confidence  in  you,  because  you 
do  not  appear  to  me  to  be  an  indifferent  party." 

Tushin  did  not  answer  in  the  same  tone.  He 
understood  Mark's  feeling  of  bitter  disillusion,  and 
made  another  attempt  at  conciliation.  "  If  you  do 
not  trust  me,"  he  said,  "  you  hold  the  evidence  in  your 
hand." 

"  A  dismissal.  Yes,  but  that  proves  nothing. 
Passion  is  a  sea,  where  storm  reigns  to-day,  and  to- 
morrow dead  calm.  Perhaps  she  already  repents 
having  sent  this." 

"  I  think  not.  She  takes  counsel  with  herself 
before  acting.  It  is  plain  from  your  last  words  that 
you  don't  understand  Vera  Vassilievna.  You  will,  of 
course,  act  in  accordance  with  her  wishes.  I  will  not 
insist  any  more  on  an  answer." 

"  There  is  no  answer  to  give.     I  am  going  away." 

"  That  is  an  answer." 

"  It  is  not  she  who  needs  an  answer,  but  you,  the 
romantic  Raisky,  and  the  old  lady." 

"  Why  not  include  the  whole  town  !  But  I  will  take 
on  myself  to  assure  Vera  Vassilievna  that  your  answer 
will  be  literally  carried  out.     Farewell.'' 

"  Farewell  ...  Sir  Knight." 

Tushin  frowned  slightly,  touched  his  cap,  and  was 
gone. 

Mark's  face  was  very  pale.  He  recognised  bitterly 
that  he  was  beaten,  that  his  romance  ended  here  at 
the  foot  of  the  precipice,  which  he  must  leave  without 
once  turning  round,  with  no  pity,  no  word  of  farewell 
to  speed  him  ;  he  was  bidden  to  go  as  if  he  were  a 
contemptible  enemy.  Why  had  all  this  come  about  ? 
He  was  not  conscious  of  any  fault.  Why  should  he 
part  from  her  like  this.  She  could  not  pretend  that 
he  had  been  the  cause  of  what  old-fashioned  people 


296  THE    PRECIPICE 

would  call  her  "  fall."  He  had  gone  so  far  as  to  belie 
his  own  convictions,  to  neglect  his  mission,  and  was 
even  prepared  to  contemplate  marriage.  Yet  he 
received  a  laconic  note  instead  of  a  friendly  letter, 
a  go-between  instead  of  herself.  It  was  as  if  he 
had  been  struck  with  a  knife,  and  a  cold  shiver  ran 
through  his  body.  It  was  not  the  old  lady  who  had 
invented  these  measures,  for  Vera  did  not  allow 
others  to  dictate  to  her.  It  must  have  been  she 
herself.  What  had  he  done,  and  why  should  she 
act  with  such  severity  ? 

He  went  slowly  away.  When  he  reached  the  fence 
he  swung  himself  on  to  the  top  and  sat  there,  asking 
himself  again  where  his  fault  lay.  He  remembered 
that  at  their  last  meeting  he  had  fairly  warned  her. 
He  had  said  in  effect  :  "  Remember  that  I  have  warned 
you.  If  you  stretch  out  your  hand  to  me  you  are 
mine,  and  the  responsibility  for  the  consequences 
rests  with  you  ;  I  am  innocent."  That  was  surely 
logical,  he  thought.  Suddenly  he  sprang  down  on 
to  the  road,  and  went  without  looking  back.  He 
remembered  how  at  this  very  spot  he  had  prepared  to 
leave  her.  But  he  heard  her  nervous,  despairing  cr\" 
of  farewell,  and  had  then  looked  round  and  rushed 
to  her.  As  he  answered  these  questions  his  blood 
hammered  in  his  veins.  He  strode  up  the  hill.  The 
knife  had  done  its  work  ;  it  bored  deeper  and  deeper. 
Memory  pitilessly  revived  a  series  of  fleeting  pictures. 
The  inner  voice  told  him  that  he  had  not  acted 
honourably,  and  spared  her  when  her  strength  had 
failed. 

She  used  to  call  you  a  "  Wolf  "  in  jest,  but  the 
name  will  be  no  jest  in  her  memory,  for  you  joined 
to  the  fierceness  of  a  wolf  a  fox's  cunning  and  the 
malice  of  a  yapping  dog  ;  there  was  nothing  human 
about  you.  She  took  with  her  from  the  depths  of 
the  precipice  nothing  but  a  bitter  memory  and  a  life- 
long sorrow.  How  could  she  be  so  blind  as  to  be  led 
astray,  to  let  herself  be  dazzled,  to  forget  herself  ? 
You  may  triumph,  for  she  will  never  forget  you. 

He  understood  now  the  laconic  note,  her  illness  and 


THE    PRECIPICE  297 

the  appearance  of  Tushin  instead  of  herself  at  the 
foot   of  the   precipice, 

Leonti  told  Raisky  that  Mark  had  informed  him 
that  he  was  goirg  to  spend  some  time  with  his  old  aunt 
in  the  governm  ait  of  Novgorod  ;  he  intended  to  enter 
the  army  once  1  lore  as  an  ensign,  in  the  hope  of  being 
sent  to  the  Caucasus. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

Raisky  and  Tushin  had  been  talking  all  the  evening, 
and  for  the  first  time  in  their  lives  observed  one 
another  closely,  with  the  result  that  both  felt  a  desire 
for  a  closer  acquaintance.  Tushin  asked  Raisky  to 
be  his  guest  for  a  week,  to  have  a  look  at  the  forest, 
the  steam-saw,  and  the  timber  industry.  Raisky 
accepted,  and  the  next  day  they  crossed  the  river 
together  in  Tushin's  boat. 

Vera's  name  did  not  cross  their  lips.  Each  was 
conscious  that  the  other  knew  his  secret.  Raisky  in 
any  case  had  learned  of  Tushin's  offer,  of  his  behaviour 
on  that  occasion,  and  of  his  part  in  the  whole  drama 
from  Vera  herself.  His  jealous  prejudices  had  instantly 
vanished,  and  he  felt  nothing  but  esteem  and  sympathy 
for  Tushin.  As  he  studied  the  personality  of  Vera's 
friend,  as  his  fancy  did  him  its  usual  service  of  putting 
the  object,  not  in  itself  a  romantic  one,  in  the  best 
light,  he  admired  Tushin's  simplicity  and  frankness. 

After  a  week  spent  at  "  Smoke,"  after  seeing  him  at 
home,  in  the  factory,  in  field  and  forest,  after  talking 
through  the  night  with  him  by  the  flickering  light  of 
the  fire,  he  understood  how  Vera's  eye  and  heart  should 
have  recognised  the  simple  completeness  of  the  man 
and  placed  Tushin  side  by  side  with  Tatiana  Markovna 
and  her  sister  in  her  affections.  Raisky  himself  was 
attracted  to  this  simple,  gentle  and  yet  strong  person- 
ality, and  would  like  to  have  stayed  longer  at  "  Smoke," 
but  Tatiana  Markovna  wrote  asking  him  to  return 


298  THE    PRECIPICE 

without  delay  as  his  presence  was  necessary  at 
Malinovka. 

Tushin  offered  to  drive  with  him,  for  company's 
sake,  as  he  said  ;  in  reaUty  he  wanted  to  know  why 
Tatiana  Markovna  had  sent  for  Jtaisky,  whether 
there  was  a  new  turn  in  Vera's  affairs,  or  any  service 
to  be  rendered  her.  He  remembered  uncomfortably 
his  meeting  with  Mark,  and  how  u  i willingly  he  had 
said  that  he  was  going  away.  Tushin  wondered 
anxiously  whether  he  had  kept  his  promise,  whether 
he  was  annoying  Vera  in  any  way. 

When  Raisky  reached  Malinovka  he  hurried  straight 
to  Vera.  While  his  impressions  were  still  fresh,  he 
drew  in  vivid  colours  a  full  length  portrait  of  Tushin, 
describing  his  surroundings  and  his  activities  with 
sympathetic  appreciation. 

Vera  sighed,  perhaps  for  sorrow  that  she  did  not 
love  Tushin  more  and  differently. 

Raisky  would  have  gone  on  talking  about  his 
visit  if  he  had  not  had  a  message  from  his  aunt  that 
she  would  like  to  see  him  immediately.  He  asked 
Vera  if  she  knew  why  he  had  been  sent  for. 

"  I  know  something  is  wrong,  but  she  has  not  told 
me,  and  I  don't  like  to  ask.     Indeed,  I  fear.  .  .  ." 

She  broke  off,  and  at  that  moment  Tushin  sent  in 
word  to  know  if  she  would  receive  him.     She  assented. 

When  Raisky  entered  her  room,  Tatiana  Markovna 
dismissed  Pashutka  and  locked  the  door.  She  looked 
worried  and  old,  and  her  appearance  terrified  Raisky. 

"  Has  something  disagreeable  happened  ?  "  he  asked, 
sitting  down  opposite  her.  j 

"  What  is  done  is  done,"  she  said  sadly. 

"  I  am  sitting  on  needles,  Grandmother.  Tell  me 
quickly." 

"  That  old  thief  Tychkov  has  had  his  revenge  on 
us  both.  He  wormed  out  a  tale  about  me  from 
a  crazy  old  woman,  but  this  has  had  no  special  results, 
for  people  are  indifferent  to  the  past,  and  in  any  case 
I  stand  with  one  foot  in  the  grave,  and  don't  care 
about  myself,  but  Vera " 

"  What  about  Vera,  Grandmother  ?  " 


THE    PRECIPICE  299 

"  Her  secret  has  ceased  to  be  a  secret.  Rumours 
are  going  about  the  town.  At  first  I  did  not  under- 
stand why  on  Sunday  at  church,  the  Vice-governor's 
wife  asked  me  twice  after  Vera's  health,  and  why 
two  other  ladies  listened  curiously  for  my  answers. 
I  looked  round,  and  read  on  every  face  the  same 
question,  what  was  the  matter  with  Vera  ?  I  said 
she  had  been  ill,  but  was  better  again.  Then  there 
were  further  questions,  and  I  extricated  myself  with 
difficulty.  The  real  misfortune,  thank  God,  is  con- 
cealed. I  learned  from  Tiet  Nikonich  yesterday, 
that  the  gossip  is  on  the  wrong  track.  Ivan  Ivanovich 
is  suspected.  Do  you  remember  that  on  Marfinka's 
birthday  he  said  not  a  word,  but  sat  there  like  a  mute, 
until  Vera  came  in,  when  he  suddenl}^  woke  up.  The 
guests,  of  course,  noticed  it.  In  any  case  it  has  long 
been  no  secret  that  he  loves  Vera,  and  he  has  no  arts 
'  of  concealment.  People  said  that  they  vanished  into 
I  the  garden,  that  Vera  went  later  to  the  old  house 
I  and  Tu'^hin  drove  away.  Do  you  know  what  he 
I  came  for  ?  " 

Raisky  nodded. 

"  Vera  and  Tushin  are  coupled  together  in  every- 
body's mouth." 

"  You  said  that  Tychkov  had  dragged  me  in  too." 

"  Pauhna  Karpovna  did  that,  ^he  went  out  to 
find  you  in  the  evening  when  you  were  out  late  with 
Vera.  You  said  something  to  her,  apparently  in  jest, 
which  she  understood  in  her  own  way,  and  she  has 
involved  you.  They  say  she  had  alienated  you  from 
Vera,  with  whom  you  were  supposed  to  be  in  love, 
and  she  keeps  on  repeating  that  she  dragged  you 
from  the  precipice.  What  had  you  to  do  with  her, 
and  what  is  the  tale  about  Vera  ?  Perhaps  you  had 
been  in  her  confidence  for  a  long  time,  and  you  both 
kept  silence  with  me — this  is  what  your  freedom  has 
brought  you  to."     She  sighed. 

"  That  silly  old  bird  got  off  too  easily,"  said  Raisky, 
clenching  his  fists.  "  To-morrow  I  will  have  it  out 
with  her." 

"  You  have  found  someone  whom  you  can  call  to 


300  THE    PRECIPICE  ' 

account.  What  is  the  use  of  reproaching  her  ?  vShe 
is  ridiculous,  and  no  one  cares  what  she  says.  But 
the  old  chatterbox  Tychkov  has  established  that  on 
Marfinka's  birthda}^  Vera  and  Tushin  had  a  long 
conversation  in  the  avenue,  that  the  day  before  she 
stayed  out  far  into  the  night,  and  was  subsequently 
ill,  and  he  has  put  his  own  construction  on  Paulina 
Karpovna's  tale.  He  is  trumpeting  it  in  the  town 
that  it  was  not  with  you,  but  with  Tushin  that  she  was  ' 
walking  about  at  night.  Then  to  crown  all  a  drunken 
old  woman  made  revelations  about  me.  Tychkov 
has  extracted  everything.  ..." 

Tatiana's  eyes  dropped,  and  her  face  flushed  for  a 
moment. 

"  That  is  another  story,"  said  Raisky  seriously, 
striding  up  and  down  the  room.  "  The  lesson  you  gave 
him  was  not  sufficient.     I  will  try  a  repetition  of  it." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  God  forbid  that  you 
should.  You  will  try  to  prove  that  the  tale  is  not 
true,  which  is  not  difficult ;  it  is  only  necessary  to 
know  where  Ivan  Ivanovich  spent  the  evening  before 
Marfinka's  birthday.  Supposing  he  was  in  his  forest, 
then  people  will  ask  who  was  with  Vera  in  the  park. 
The  Kritzki  woman  saw  you  at  the  top  of  the  precipice, 
and  Vera  was " 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ?  "  asked  Raisky  in  fear  for 
Vera. 

"  God's  judgments  are  put  in  the  mouths  of  men," 
whispered  Tatiana  Markovna  sadly,  "  and  they  must 
not  be  despised.  We  must  humble  ourselves,  and  our 
cup  is  apparently  not  yet  full." 

Conscious  of  the  difficulties  of  their  position,  both 
were  silent.  Vera's  retired  way  of  life,  Tushin's 
devotion  to  her,  her  independence  of  her  aunt's 
authority,  were  famihar  and  accustomed  facts.  But 
Raisky 's  attentions  to  her  wrapped  this  simple 
situation  in  an  uncertainty,  which  Paulina  Karpovna 
had  noticed,  and  had  naturally  not  kept  to  herself. 
It  was  not  only  Tatiana  Markovna  who  had  marked 
out  Tushin  as  Vera's  probable  husband.  The  town 
expected  two  great  events,  Marfinka's  marriage  with 


THE    PRECIPICE  301 

Vikentev  which  was  about  to  take  place,  and,  in  no 
distant  future,  Tushin's  marriage  with  Vera.  Then 
suddenly  there  were  these  incomprehensible,  unexpected 
happenings.  On  her  sister's  birthday  Vera  appeared 
among  the  guests  only  for  a  moment,  hardly  spoke  to 
anyone,  then  vanished  into  the  garden  with  Tushin, 
and  afterwards  to  the  old  house,  while  Tushin  left 
without  even  saying  good-bye  to  his  hostess. 

Paulina  Markovna  had  related  how  Raisky,  on  the 
eve  of  the  family  festival,  had  gone  out  for  a  walk 
with  Vera. 

Following  on  this  Vera  had  fallen  ill,  then  Tatiana 
Markovna,  no  one  was  admitted  to  the  house,  Raisky 
wandered  about  like  one  possessed,  and  the  doctors 
gave  no  definite  report. 

There  was  no  word  or  sign  of  a  wedding.  Why 
had  Tushin  not  made  his  offer,  and  if  he  made  it,  why 
was  it  not  accepted  ?  People  surmised  that  Raisky 
had  entrapped  Vera  ;  if  so,  why  did  he  not  marry  her. 
They  were  determined  to  know  who  was  wrong  and 
who  was  right,  and  to  give  judgment  accordingly. 
Both  Tatiana  Markovna  and  Raisky  were  conscious 
of  all  this,  and  feared  the  verdict  for  Vera's  sake. 

"  Grandmother,"  said  Raisky  at  last,  "  you  must 
tell  Ivan  Ivanovich  this  yourself,  and  be  guided  by 
what  he  says.  I  know  his  character  now,  and  am  con- 
fident that  he  will  decide  on  the  right  course.  He  loves 
Vera,  and  cares  more  for  what  happens  to  her  than 
to  himself.  He  came  over  the  Volga  with  me  because 
your  letter  to  me  made  him  anxious  about  Vera. 
When  you  have  talked  this  over  with  him,  I  will  go 
to  Paulina  Karpovna,  and  perhaps  see  Tychkov  as 
well." 

"  I  am  determined  you  shall  not  meet  Tychkov." 

"  I  must,"  replied  Raisky. 

"  I  will  not  have  it,  Boris.  No  good  can  come  of 
it.  I  will  follow  your  advice  and  speak  to  Ivan 
Ivanovich  ;  then  we  will  see  whether  you  need  go  to 
Paulina  Karpovna.  Ask  Ivan  Ivanovich  to  come 
here,  but  say  not  a  word  to  Vera.  She  has  heard 
nothing  so  far,  and  God  grant  that  she  never  will." 


302  THE    PRECIPICE 

Raisky  went  to  Vera,  and  his  place  with  Tatiana 
Markovna  was  taken  by  Tiishin. 

Tatiana  Markovna  could  not  disguise  her  agitation 
when  Ivan  Ivanovich  entered  her  room.  He  made 
his  bow  in  silence. 

"  How  did  you  find  Vera  ?  "  she  asked,  after  a  pause. 

"  She  seemed  to  be  well  and  calm," 

"  God  grant  that  she  is  !  But  how  much  trouble 
all  this  has  caused  you,"  she  added  in  a  low  voice, 
tr3dng  to  avoid  his  eyes. 

"  What  does  that  matter,  if  Vera  Vassilievna  has 
peace." 

"  She  was  beginning  to  recover,  and  I  too  felt 
happier,  so  long  as  our  distress  was  concealed." 
Tushin  started  as  if  he  had  been  shot.  "  Ivan 
Ivanovich,"  continued  Tatiana  Markovna,  "  there 
is  all  sorts  of  gossip  in  the  town.  Borushka  and  I 
in  a  moment  of  anger  tore  the  mask  from  that  hypocrite 
Tychkov — you  have  no  doubt  heard  the  story.  Such 
an  outburst  ill  fitted  my  years,  but  he  had  been  blowing 
his  own  trumpet  so  abominably  that  it  was  unendur- 
able. Now  he,  in  his  turn,  is  tearing  the  mask  from 
us." 

"  From  you  ?     I  don't  understand." 

"  When  he  gossipped  about  me,  no  one  took  any 
heed,  for  I  am  already  counted  with  my  fathers. 
But  with  Vera  it  is  different,  and  they  have  dragged 
your  name  into  the  affair." 

"  Mine  ?  with  Vera  Vassilievna's  ?  Please  tell  me 
what  the  talk  is." 

When  Tatiana  Markovna  had  told  the  story  he 
asked  what  she  wished  him  to  do. 

"  You  must  clear  yourself,"  she  said.  "  You 
have  been  beyond  reproach  all  your  life,  and  must  be 
again.  As  soon  as  Marfinka's  wedding  is  over  I 
shall  settle  on  my  estate  at  Novosselovo  for  good. 
You  should  make  haste  to  inform  Tychkov  that  you 
were  not  in  the  town  on  the  day  before  IMarfinka's 
fete-day,  and  consequently  could  not  have  been  at 
the  precipice." 

"  It  ought  to  be  done  differently." 


THE    PRECIPICE  303 

"  Do  just  as  you  like,  Ivan  Ivanovich.  But  what 
else  can  you  say  ? 

"  I  would  rather  not  meet  Tychkov.  He  may 
have  heard  through  others  that  I  certainly  was  in 
the  town  ;  I  was  spending  a  couple  of  days  with  a 
friend,  I  shall  spread  it  about  that  I  did  visit  the 
precipice  on  that  evening  with  Vera  Vassilievna, 
although  that  is  not  the  case.  I  might  add  that  I 
had  offered  her  my  hand  and  had  met  with  a  refusal, 
by  which  you,  Tatiana  Markovna,  who  gave  me  your 
approval,  were  aggrieved ;  that  Vera  Vassilievna 
felt  bitterly  the  breach  of  our  friendship.  One  might 
even  speak  of  a  distant  hope  ...  of  a  promise.  ..." 

"  People  will  not  be  kept  quiet  by  that,  for  a  promise 
cannot  always  remain  a  promise." 

"  It  will  be  forgotten,  Tatiana  Markovna,  especially 
if  you,  as  you  say,  leave  the  neighbourhood.  If  it 
is  not  forgotten,  and  you  and  Vera  Vassilievna  are 
further  disturbed,  it  is  still  possible,"  he  added  in 
a  low  tone,  "  to  accept  my  proposal." 

"  Ivan  Ivanovich,"  said  Tatiana  Markovna  re- 
proachfully, "  do  you  think  Vera  and  I  are  capable 
of  such  a  thing  ?  Are  we  to  avail  ourselves  of  your 
past  affection  and  your  generosity  merely  to  still 
iTialicious  gossip,  to  stifle  talk  for  which  there  is  a 
basis  of  truth.  Neither  you  nor  Vera  would  find 
happiness  in  that  way." 

"  There  is  no  question  of  generosity,  Tatiana  Mar- 
kovna. If  a  forest  stands  in  one's  way,  it  must  he 
hewn  down  ;  bold  men  see  no  barrier  in  the  sea,  and 
hew  their  way  through  the  rock  itself.  Here  there  is 
no  obstacle  of  forest,  sea,  or  rock.  I  am  bridging 
the  precipice,  and  my  feet  will  not  tremble  when  I 
cross  the  bridge.  Give  me  Vera  Vassilievna.  No 
devil  should  disturb  my  happiness  or  her  peace  of 
mind,  if  she  lived  to  be  a  hundred.  She  will  be  my 
Tsaritsa,  and  in  the  peace  that  reigns  in  my  forest 
will  forget  all  that  now  oppresses  her.  You  don't 
yet  understand  me  !  " 

"  1  do,"  whispered  Tatiana  Markovna  tearfully, 
"  but  the  decision  does  not  lie  with  me." 


304  THE    PRECIPICE 

He  passed  his  hands  across  his  eyes  and  through 
his  thick  hair,  then  seized  her  hands. 

"  Forgive  me,  I  forgot  the  important  point.  It  is 
not  mountain,  forest  or  sea,  but  an  insurmountable 
obstacle  that  confronts  me — Vera  Vassilievna  is  not 
willing.  She  looks  forward  to  a  happier  future  than 
I  can  offer  her.  You  sent  for  me  to  let  me  know  of 
the  gossip  there  is  going  about,  in  the  view  that  it 
must  be  painful,  didn't  you  ?  Do  not  let  it  disturb 
either  yourself  or  Vera  Vassilievna,  but  take  her  away, 
so  that  no  word  of  it  penetrates  to  her  ears.  In  the 
meantime  I  will  spread  in  the  town  the  account  we  have 
discussed.  That  man,"  he  could  not  bring  Mark's 
name  over  his  lips,  "  leaves  the  town  to-morrow  or 
the  day  after,  and  all  will  be  forgotten.  As  for  me, 
since  it  is  decided  that  Vera  Vassilievna  is  not  to  be 
my  wife,  it  does  not  matter  whether  I  die  or  live." 

Tatiana  Markovna,  pale  and  trembling,  interrupted 
him. 

"  She  will  be  your  wife,"  she  said,  "  when  she  has 
learnt  to  forget.  I  understand  for  the  first  time 
how  you  love  Vera." 

"  Do  not  lure  me  on  with  false  hopes,  for  I  am  not 
a  boy.  Who  can  give  me  security  that  Vera  Vassilievna 
will  ever.  ..."  ^' 

"  I  give  you  that  security." 

His  eyes  shone  with  gratitude  as  he  took  her  hand. 
Tatiana  Markovna  felt  that  she  had  gone  too  far, 
and    had    promised    more    than    she    could    perform. 
She  withdrew  her  hand,  and  said  soothingly  :  "  She  ^ 
is   still    very   unhappy,   and   would    not   understand  j. 
at  present.     First  of  all  she  must  be  left  alone." 

"  I  will  wait  and  hope,"  he  said  in  a  low  tone.  "  If 
only  I  might,  like  Vikentev,  call  you  Grandmother." 

She  signed  to  him  to  leave  her.  When  he  had 
gone  she  dropped  on  to  her  chair,  and  covered  her 
face  with  her  handkerchief. 


\ 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

Raisky  had  written  to  Paulina  Karpovna  asking  her 
if  he  might  call  the  next  day  about  one  o'clock.  Her 
answer  ran  :  "  Charmee,  j' attends  .  .  ."  and  so  on. 

He  found  her  in  her  boudoir  in  a  stifling  atmosphere 
of  burning  incense,  with  curtains  drawn  to  produce 
a  mysterious  twilight.  She  wore  a  white  muslin 
frock  with  wide  lace  sleeves,  with  a  yellow  dahlia 
at  her  breast.  Near  the  divan  was  placed  a  sumptuously 
spread  table  with  covers  for  two. 

Raisky  explained  that  he  had  come  to  make  a 
farewell  call, 

"  A  farewell  call  I  I  won't  hear  of  such  a  thing. 
You  are  joking,  it  is  a  bad  joke  !  No,  no  !  Smile  and 
take  back  the  hated  word,"  she  protested,  slipping  her 
arm  in  his  and  leading  him  to  the  table.  "  Don't 
think  of  going  away.     "  Vive  I' amour  et  la  joie." 

She  invited  him  with  a  coquettish  gesture  to  be 
seated,  and  hung  a  table  napkin  over  his  coat,  as 
slie  might  to  a  child.  He  devoted  an  excellent  morning 
appetite  to  the  food  before  him.  She  poured  out 
champagne  for  him  and  watched  him  with  tender 
admiration. 

After  a  longish  pause  when  she  had  filled  his  glass 
for  the  third  or  fourth  time  she  said  :  "  Well,  what 
have  you  to  say  about  it  ?  "  Then  as  Raisky  looked 
at  her  in  amazement  she  continued  :  "  I  see,  I  see  ! 
Take  off  the  mask,  and  have  done  with  concealment." 

"  Ah  !  "  sighed  Raisky,  putting  his  lips  to  his  glass. 
They  drank  to  one  another's  health. 

"  Do  you  remember  that  night,"  she  murmured, 
"  the  night  of  love  as  you  called  it." 

"  How  should  it  fade  from  my  memory,"  he  whis- 
pered darkly.     "  That  night  was  the  decisive  hour." 

"  I  knew  it.     A  mere  girl  could  not  hold  370U  .  .  . 


3o6  THE    PRECIPICE 

une  nullite,  cette  pauvre  petite  fille,  qui  n'a  que  sa  figure 
.  .  .  shy,  inexperienced,  devoid  of  elegance." 

"  She  could  not.     I  have  torn  myself  free." 

"  And  have  found  what  you  have  long  been  seeking, 
have  you  not  ?  What  happened  in  the  park  to  excite 
you  so  ? 

After  a  little  fencing,  Raisky  proceeded  with  his 
story.  "  When  I  thought  my  happiness  was  within 
my  grasp,  I  heard.  ..." 

"  Tushin  was  there  ?  "  whispered  Paulina  Karpovna, 
holding  her  breath. 

He  nodded  silently,  and  raised  his  glass  once 
more. 

"  Diies  tout,"  she  said  with  a  malicious  smile. 

"  She  was  walking  alone,  lost  in  thought,"  he 
said  in  a  confidential  tone,  while  Paulina  Karpovna 
played  with  her  watch  chain,  and  listened  with  strained 
attention.  "  I  was  at  her  heels,  determined  to 
have  an  answer  from  her.  She  took  one  or  two  steps 
down  the  face  of  the  precipice,  when  someone  suddenly 
came  towards  her." 

"He?  " 

"  He." 

"  What  did  he  do  ?  " 

"  '  Good  evening.  Vera  Vassilievna/  he  said.  '  How 
do  you  do  ?  '     She  shuddered." 

"  Hypocrisy  !  " 

"  Not  at  all.  I  hid  myself  and  listened.  '  What 
are  you  doing  here  ?  '  she  said.  '  I  am  spending 
two  days  in  town,'  he  said,  '  to  be  present  at  your 
sister's  fete,  and  I  have  chosen  that  day.  .  .  . 
Decide,  Vera  Vassilievna,  whether  I  am  to  love  or  not." 

"  Ou  le  sentiment  va-t-il  se  nicher  ? "  exclaimed 
Pauhna  Karpovna.     "  Even  in  that  clod." 

"  *  Ivan  Ivanovich  !  '  pleaded  Vera,"  continued 
Raisky.  "  He  interrupted  her  with  '  Vera  Vassilievna, 
decide  whether  to-morrow  I  should  ask  Tatiana 
Markovna  for  your  hand,  or  throw  myself  into  the 
Volga!'  " 

"  Those  were  his  words  ?  " 

"His  very  words." 


THE    PRECIPICE  307 

"  Mais,  il  est  ridicule.  What  did  she  do  ?  She 
moaned,  cried  yes  and  no  ?  " 

"  She  answered,  '  No,  Ivan  Ivanovich,  give  me  time 
to  consider  whether  I  can  respond  with  the  same  deep 
affection  that  you  feel  for  me.  Give  me  six  months, 
a  year,  and  then  I  will  answer  "  yes  "  or  "  no."  '  Your 
room  is  so  hot,  Paulina  Karpovna,  could  we  have  a 
little  air  ?  " 

Raisky  thought  he  had  invented  enough,  and 
glanced  up  at  his  hostess,  who  wore  an  expression  of 
disappointment. 

"  C'est  tout  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Oui,"  he  said.  "  In  any  case  Tushin  did  not 
abandon  hope.  On  the  next  day,  Marfinka's  birthday, 
he  appeared  again  to  hear  her  last  word.  From  the 
precipice  he  went  through  the  park,  and  she  accom- 
panied him.  It  seems  that  next  day  his  hopes  revived. 
Mine  are  for  ever  gone." 

"  And  that  is  all  ?  People  have  been  spreading 
God  knows  what  tales  about  your  cousin — and  you. 
They  have  not  even  spared  that  saint  Tatiana  Mar- 
kovna  with  their  poisonous  tongues.  That  unendur- 
able Tychkov  !  " 

Raisky  pricked  up  his  ears.  "  They  talk  about 
Grandmother  ?  "  he  asked  waveringly. 

He  remembered  the  hint  Vera  had  given  him  of 
Tatiana  Markovna's  love  story,  and  he  had  heard 
something  from  Vassilissa,  but  what  woman  has  not 
her  romance  ?  They  must  have  dug  up  some  lie  or 
some  gossip  out  of  the  dust  of  forty  years.  He  must 
know  what  it  was  in  order  to  stop  Tychkov's  mouth. 

"  What  do  they  say  about  Grandmother  ?  "  he  asked 
in  a  low,  intimate  voice. 

"Ah,  c'est  deguutant.  No  one  believes  it,  and 
everybody  is  jeering  at  Tychkov  for  having  debased 
himself  to  interrogate  a  drink-maddened  old  beggar- 
woman.     I  will  not  repeat  it." 

"  If  you  please,"  he  whispered  tenderly. 

"  You  wish  to  know  ?  "  she  whispered,  bending 
towards  him.  "  Then  you  shall  hear  everything. 
This  woman,  who  stands  regularly  in  the  porch  of  the 


3o8  THE    PRECIPICE 

Church  of  the  Ascension,  has  been  saying  that  Tiet 
Nikonich  loved  Tatiana  Markovna,  and  she  him." 

"  I  know  that,"  he  interrupted  impatiently.    "  That 
is  no' crime." 
"  And  she  was  sought  in  marriage  by  the  late  Count 

Sergei  Ivanovich " 

"  I  have  heard  that,  too.  She  did  not  agree,  and  the 
Count  married  somebody  else,  but  she  was  forbidden 
to  marry  Tiet  Nikonich.  I  have  been  told  all  that  by 
Vassilissa.     What  did  the  drunken  woman  say  ?  " 

"  The  Count  is  said  to  have  surprised  a  rendezvous 
between  Tatiana  Markovna  and  Tiet  Nikonich,  and 
such  a  rendezvous. 

"  No,  no !  "  she  cried,  shaking  with  laughter. 
"  Tatiana  Markovna !  Who  would  believe  such  a 
thing  ?  " 

Raisky  listened  seriously,  and  surmises  flitted  across 
his  mind. 

"  The  Count  gave  Tiet  Nikonich  a  box  on  the  ears." 
"  That  is  a  lie,"  cried  Raisky,  jumping  up,     "  Tiet 
Nikonich  would  not  have  endured  it." 

"A  lie  naturally — he  did  not  endure  it.  He  seized  a 
garden  knife  that  he  found  among  the  flowers,  struck 
the  Count  to  the  ground,  seized  him  by  the  throat, 
and  would  have  killed  him." 

Raisky's  face  changed.  "  Well  ?  "  he  urged. 
"  Tatiana  Markovna  restrained  his  hand.  '  You 
are '  she  said, '  a  nobleman,  not  a  bandit,  your  weapon 
is  a  sword.'  She  succeeded  in  separating  them,  and 
a  duel  was  not  possible,  for  it  would  have  compromised 
her.  The  opponents  gave  their  word ;  the  Count 
to  keep  silence  over  what  had  happened,  and  Tiet 
Nikonich  not  to  marry  Tatiana  Markovna.  That  is 
why  she  remains  unmarried.  Is  it  not  a  shame  to 
spread  such  calumnies  ?  " 

Raisky  could  no  longer  contain  his  agitation,  but  he 
said,  "  You  see  it  is  a  lie.  Who  could  possibly  have 
seen  and  heard  what  passed." 

"  The  gardener,  who  was  asleep  in  a  corner,  is  said 
to  have  witnessed  the  whole  scene.  He  was  a  serf, 
and  fear  ensured  his  silence,  but  he  told  his  wife,  the 


THE    PRECIPICE  309 

drunken  widow  who  is  now  chattering  about  it.  Of 
course  it  is  nonsense,  incredible  nonsense.  I  am  the 
first  to  cry  that  it  is  a  lie,  a  lie.  Our  respected  and 
saintly  Tatiana  Markovna !  "  Paulina  Karpovna 
burst  out  laughing,  but  checked  herself  when  she 
looked  at  Raisky. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  Allans  done,  ouhliez  tout. 
Vive  la  joie  !  Do  not  frown.  We  will  send  for  more 
wine,"  she  said,  looking  at  him  with  her  ridiculous, 
languishing  air. 

"  No,  no,  I  am  afraid "     He  broke  off,  fearing 

to  betray  himself,  and  concluded  lamely,  "  It  would 
not  agree  with  me — I  am  not  accustomed  to  wine." 

He  rose  from  his  seat,  and  his  hostess  followed  his 
example. 

"  Good-bye,  for  ever,"  he  said. 

"  No,  no,"  she  cried. 

"  I  must  escape  from  these  dangerous  places,  from 
your  precipices  and  abysses.     Farewell,  farewell !  " 

He  picked  up  his  hat,  and  hurried  away.  Paulina 
Karpovna  stood  as  if  turned  to  stone,  then  rang  the 
bell,  and  called  for  her  carriage  and  for  her  maid  to 
dress  her,  saying  she  had  calls  to  pay. 

Raisky  perceived  that  there  was  truth  in  the  drunken 
woman's  storj^,  and  that  he  held  in  his  hand  the  key 
to  his  aunt's  past.  He  realised  now  how  she  had 
grown  to  be  the  woman  she  was,  and  where  she  had 
won  her  strength,  her  practical  wisdom,  her  knowledge 
of  life  and  of  men's  hearts  ;  he  understood  why  she 
had  won  Vera's  confidence,  and  had  been  able  to  calm 
her  niece  in  spite  of  her  own  distress.  Perhaps  Vera, 
too,  knew  the  story.  While  he  had  been  manoeuvring 
to  give  another  turn  to  the  gossip  about  Vera's  rela- 
tions to  himself  and  Tushin,  he  had  lighted  by  chance 
on  a  forgotten  but  vivid  page  of  his  family  history,  on 
another  drama  no  less  dangerous  to  those  who  took 
part  in  it,  and  found  that  his  whole  soul  was  moved 
by  this  record  of  what  had  happened  forty  years  ago. 

"  Borushka  !  "  cried  Tatiana  Markovna  in  horror, 
when  he  entered  her  room.  "  WTiat  has  come  to  you, 
my  friend  ?     You  have  been  drinking  !  "     She  looked 


310  THE    PRECIPICE 

keenly  at  him  for  a  long  minute,  then  turned  away 
when  she  read  in  his  tell-tale  face  that  he,  too,  had 
heard  the  talk  about  her  past  self. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

Against  universal  expectation,  Marfinka's  wedding 
was  a  quiet  one,  no  one  being  invited  except  a  few 
neighbouring  landowners  and  the  important  personages 
in  the  town,  about  fifty  guests  in  all.  The  young 
people  were  married  in  the  village  church  on  Sunday, 
after  morning  service,  and  afterwards  in  the  hall, 
which  had  been  transformed  for  the  occasion,  a  formal 
breakfast  was  served  without  any  of  the  gaiety  and 
excitement  usual  to  such  occasions.  The  servants 
were  most  disappointed,  for  their  mistress  had  taken 
precautions  against  their  drinking  to  excess,  which 
made  the  whole  affair  seem  dull  to  them. 

Marfinka's  trousseau  and  her  contributions  to  the 
household  had  already  been  taken  across  the  Volga, 
the  process  having  occupied  a  full  week.  She  herself 
shone  with  the  charm  of  a  rose  grown  to  perfection  ;  in 
her  face  a  new  emotion  was  visible  which  found  expres- 
sion now  in  a  musing  smile,  now  in  a  stray  tear.  Her 
face  was  shadowed  with  the  consciousness  of  a  new 
life,  of  a  far  stretching  future  with  unknown  duties, 
a  new  dignity  and  a  new  happiness.  Vikentev  wore 
an  expression  of  modesty,  almost  of  timidity,  and  was 
visibly  affected. 

Raisky  looked  at  the  pretty  bride  with  the  emotions 
of  a  brother,  but  he  had  an  impulse  of  terror  when  he 
noticed  in  her  sheaf  of  orange  blossom  some  faded 
blooms. 

"  They  are  from  the  bouquet  that  Vera  gave  me 
for  my  birthday,"  she  explained  naively. 

Raisky  pretended  that  withered  flowers  w^ere  a 
bad  omen,  and  helped  her  to  pick  them  out. 

When  the  time  for  their  departure  came,  the  bride 


THE    PRECIPICE  311 

had  to  be  literally  dragged  sobbing  from  her  aunt's 
breast,  but  her*  tears  were  tears  of  joy.  Tatiana 
Markovna  was  pale,  only  maintaining  her  self-restraint 
with  difftculty,  and  it  was  plain  that  she  could  only 
just  stand  as  she  looked  out  on  the  Volga  after  her 
departing  child.  Once  at  home  again,  she  gave  way 
to  her  tears.  She  knew  that  she  possessed  the  almost 
undivided  love  of  her  other  child,  the  passionate  Vera, 
whose  character  had  been  ripened  by  bitter  experience. 

Tushin  stayed  with  a  friend  in  the  town  for  the 
wedding.  Next  day  he  came  to  Tatiana  Markovna, 
accompanied  by  an  architect,  and  they  spent  nearly 
a  week  over  plans,  going  over  the  two  houses,  the 
gardens  and  the  servants'  quarters,  making  sketches 
and  talking  of  radical  alterations  in  the  spring.  Every- 
thing of  value — furniture,  pictures,  even  the  parquet 
flooring — had  been  taken  out  of  the  old  house  and 
stored,  partly  in  the  new  house,  partly  in  outhouses 
and  on  the  ground. 

Tatiana  Markovna  and  Vera  intended  to  go  to 
Novosselovo,  and  later  on  to  visit  the  Vikentevs  ; 
for  the  summer  they  were  invited  to  be  the  guests  of 
Anna  Ivanovna,  Tushin's  sister,  at  "  Smoke." 
Tatiana  Markovna  had  given  no  definite  answer  to 
the  suggestion,  saying  that  it  must  be  "  as  God  wills." 
In  any  case  Tushin  was  making  the  necessary  arrange- 
ments with  the  architect,  and  intended  to  make 
extensive  alterations  in  his  house  for  the  reception 
of  the  honoured  visitors. 

Raisky  stayed  in  his  rooms  in  the  new  house,  but 
Leonti  had  returned  to  his  own  home  for  the  time 
being,  to  return  to  Malinovka  after  the  departure  of 
Tatiana  Markovna  and  Vera.  He,  too,  had  been 
invited  by  Tushin  to  "  Smoke,"  but  Leonti  had 
answered  with  a  sigh,  "  Later  in  the  winter.  Just 
now  I  am  expecting  ..."  and  had  broken  off  to  look 
out  on  to  the  road  from  Moscow.  He  was  in  fact 
expecting  a  letter  from  his  wife  in  answer  to  one  he  had 
just  written.  Not  long  before,  Juliana  Andreevna 
had  written  to  their  housekeeper  and  had  asked  her 
to  send  her  winter  cloak.     She  indicated  the  address. 


312  THE    PRECIPICE 

but  said  not  a  word  about  her  husband.  Leonti 
dispatched  the  cloak  himself  with  a  glowing  letter  in 
which  he  asked  her  to  come,  and  spoke  of  his  love  and 
friendship. 

The  poor  man  received  no  reply.  Gradually  he 
resumed  his  teaching,  though  he  still  betrayed  his 
melancholy  now  and  again  during  the  lessons,  and 
was  apt  to  be  absentminded  and  unconscious  of  the 
behaviour  of  his  scholars,  who  took  pitiless  advantage 
of  his  helplessness. 

Tushin  had  offered  to  look  after  Malinovka  during 
Tatiana  Markovna's  absence.  He  called  it  his  winter 
quarters  and  made  a  point  of  crossing  the  Volga  every 
week  to  give  an  eye  to  the  house,  the  farm  yard  and 
the  servants,  of  whom  only  Vassilissa,  Egor,  the  cook 
and  the  coachman  accompanied  their  mistress  to 
Novosselovo.  Yakob  and  Savili  were  put  especially 
at  Tushin's  disposition. 

Raisky  proposed  to  leave  a  week  after  the  wedding. 

Tiet  Nikonich  was  in  the  most  melancholy  phght 
of  all.  At  any  other  time  he  would  have  followed 
Tatiana  Markovna  to  the  end  of  the  world,  but  after 
the  outbreak  of  gossip  it  would  have  been  unsuitable 
to  follow  her  for  the  moment,  because  it  might  have 
given  colour  to  the  talk  about  them  which  was 
half-believed  and  already  partly  forgotten.  Tatiana 
Markovna,  however,  said  he  might  come  at  Christmas, 
and  by  that  time  perhaps  circumstances  would  permit 
him  to  stay.  In  the  meantime,  he  accepted  Tushin's 
invitation  to  be  his  guest  at  "  Smoke." 

The  gossip  about  Vera  had  given  ground  to  the 
universal  expectation  of  her  marriage  with  Tushin. 
Tatiana  Markovna  hoped  that  time  would  heal  all 
her  wounds,  but  she  recognised  that  Vera's  case  stood 
in  a  category  by  itself,  and  that  ordinary  rules  did 
not  apply  to  it.  No  rumour  reached  Vera,  who 
continued  to  see  in  Tushin  the  friend  of  long  standing, 
who  was  all  the  dearer  to  her  since  he  had  stretched 
out  to  her  his  helping  hand. 

In  the  last  davs  before  his  departure  Raisky  had 
gone  through  and  sorted  his  sketches  and  notebooks, 


THE    PRECIPICE  313 

and  had  selected  from  his  novel  those  pages  which 
bore  reference  to  Vera.  In  the  last  night  that  he 
spent  under  the  roof  of  home  he  decided  to  begin 
his  plot  then  and  there,  and  sat  down  to  his  writing- 
table.  He  determined  that  one  chapter  at  least  should 
be  written.  "  When  my  passion  is  past,"  he  told  him- 
self, "  when  I  no  longer  stand  in  the  presence  of  these 
men,  with  their  comedy  and  their  tragedy,  the  picture 
will  be  clearer  and  in  perspective.  I  already  see 
the  splendid  form  emerge  fresh  from  the  hand  of  its 
creator,  I  see  my  statue,  whose  majesty  is  undefiled 
by  the  common  and  the  mean,"  He  rose,  walked 
up  and  down  the  room,  and  thought  over  the  first 
chapter.  After  half  an  hour's  meditation  he  sat 
down  and  rested  his  head  on  his  hands.  Weariness 
invaded  him,  and  as  it  was  uncomfortable  to  doze 
in  a  sitting  posture  he  lay  down  on  the  sofa.  Very 
soon  he  fell  asleep,  and  there  was  a  sound  of  regular 
breathing. 

When  he  woke  it  was  beginning  to  get  light.  He 
sprang  up  hastily  and  looked  round  in  astonishment, 
as  if  he  had  seen  something  new  and  unexpected 
in  his  dreams. 

"  In  my  dream,  even,  I  saw  a  statue,"  he  said  to 
himself.     "  W^hat  does  it  mean  ?     Is  it  an  omen  ?  " 

He  went  to  the  table,  read  the  introduction  he  had 
written,  and  sighed.  "  What  use  do  I  make  of  my 
powers  ?  "  he  cried.  "  Another  year  is  gone."  He 
angrily  thrust  the  manuscript  aside  to  look  for  a 
letter  he  had  received  a  month  ago  from  the  sculptor 
Kirilov,  and  sat  down  at  the  table  to  answer  it. 

"  In  my  sound  and  clear  mind,  dear  Kirilov,  I  hasten  to 
give  you  the  first  intimation  of  the  new  and  unexpected 
perspecdve  of  my  art  and  my  activity.  I  write  in  answer 
to  the  letter  in  which  you  tell  me  that  you  are  going  to  visit 
Italy  and  Rome.  I  am  coming  to  St.  Petersburg  ;  so  for  God's 
sake  wait  for  me  and  I  will  travel  with  you.  Take  me  with 
you,  and  have  pity  on  a  blind,  insane  individual,  who  has 
only  to-day  had  his  eyes  opened  to  his  real  calling.  I  have 
groped  about  in  the  darkness  for  a  long  time,  and  have  very 
nearly  committed  suicide,  that  is,  let  my  talent  perish.  You 
discovered  talent  in  my  pictures,   but  instead  of  devoting 


314  THE    PRECIPICE 

myself  solely  to  my  brush  I  have  dabbled  in  music,  in  literature 
■ — have  dissipated  my  energies.  I  meant  to  write  a  novel, 
and  neither  you  nor  anybody  else  prevented  me  and  told 
mc  that  I  am  a  sculptor,  a  classical  artist.  A  Venus  of  living 
marble  is  born  of  my  imagination.  Is  it  then  my  cue  to 
introduce  psychology  into  my  pictures,  to  describe  manners 
and  customs  ?  Surely  not,  my  art  is  concerned  with  form 
and  beauty. 

"For  the  novelist  quite  other  quaUties  are  required,  and 
years  of  labour  are  necessary.  I  would  spare  neither  time 
nor  endeavour  if  I  thought  that  my  talent  lay  in  my  pen. 
In  any  case,  I  will  keep  my  notes — or  perhaps  no  ! — I  must 
not  deceive  myself  by  harbouring  an  uncertain  hope.  I 
cannot  accomplish  what  I  have  in  mind  with  the  pen.  The 
analysis  of  the  complicated  mechanism  of  human  nature 
is  contrary  to  my  nature.  My  gift  is  to  comprehend  beauty, 
to  model  it  in  clear  and  lovely  forms.  ...  I  shall  keep  those 
notes  to  remind  me  of  what  I  have  seen,  experienced,  and 
suffered. 

"  If  the  art  of  sculpture  fails  me  I  will  humiliate  myself, 
and  seek  out,  wherever  he  may  be,  the  man  (his  name  is  Mark 
Volokov)  who  first  doubted  the  completion  of  my  novel  and 
will  confess  to  him,  '  You  are  right,  right,  I  am  only  half  a 
man  !  '     But  until  that  time  comes,  I  will  live  and  hope. 

"  Let  us  go  to  Rome,  Rome.  There  dwells  Art,  not 
snobbishness  and  empty  pastime  ;  there  is  work,  enjoyment, 
life  itself.     To  our  early  meeting  !  " 

The  house  was  early  astir  to  bid  Raisk}/  Godspeed. 
Tushin  and  the  young  Vikentevs  had  come,  Marfinka, 
a  marvel  of  beauty,  amiability  and  shyness.  Tatiana 
Markovna  looked  sad,  but  she  pulled  herself  together 
and  avoided  sentiment. 

"  Stay  with  us,"  she  said  reproachfully.  "  You 
do  not  even  know,  yourself,  where  370U  are  going." 

"  To  Rome,  Grandmother." 

"  What  for  ?     To  see  the  Pope  ?  " 

"  To  be  a  sculptor." 

"  Wha-at  ?  " 

Marfinka  also  begged  him  to  stay.  Vera  did  not 
add  her  voice  to  the  request,  because  she  knew  he 
would  not  stay  ;  she  thought  sorrowfully  that  his 
manifold  talents  had  not  developed  so  far  to  give  the 
pleasure  they  should  do  to  himself  and  others. 

"  Cousin,"  she  said,  "  if  ever  you  grow  weary  of 
your  existence  abroad,  will  you  come  back  to  glance 


THE    PRECIPICE  315 

at  this  place  where  you  are  now  at  last  understood  and 
loved  ?  " 

"  Certainly  I  will,  Vera.  My  heart  has  found  a 
real  home  here.  Grandmother,  Marfinka  and  you 
are  my  dear  family  ;  I  shall  never  form  new  domestic 
ties.  You  will  always  be  present  with  me  wherever 
I  go,  but  now  do  not  seek  to  detain  me.  My  imagina- 
tion drives  me  away,  and  my  head  is  whirling  with 
ideas,  but  in  less  than  a  year  I  shall  have  completed 
a  statue  of  you  in  marble." 

"  What  about  the  novel  ?  "  she  asked,  laughing. 

"  When  I  am  dead  anyone  who  has  a  fancy  for 
them  may  examine  m}'  papers,  and  will  find  material 
enough.  But  my  immediate  intention  is  to  represent 
your  head  and  shoulders  in  marble." 

"  Before  the  year  is  out  you  will  fall  in  love  with 
somebody  else,  and  will  not  know  which  to  choose  as 
your  model." 

"  I  may  fall  in  love,  but  I  shall  never  love  anyone 
as  I  do  you.  I  will  carve  your  statue  in  marble,  for 
you  always  stand  vividly  before  my  eyes.  That 
is  certain,"  he  concluded  emphatically,  as  he  caught 
her  smiling  glance. 

"  Certain  again  !  "  interrupted  Tatiana  Markovna. 
"  I  don't  know  what  you  are  discussing  there,  but  I 
know  that  when  you  say  '  certain,'  Boris,  it  is  safe 
to  say  that  nothing  will  come  of  it." 

Raisky  went  up  to  Tushin,  who  was  sitting  in  a 
corner  silently  watching  the  scene. 

"  I  hope,  Ivan  Ivanovich,  that  what  we  all  wish 
will  be  accomplished,"  he  said. 

"  All  of  us,  Boris  Pavlovich  ?  Do  you  think  it 
will  be  accomplished  ?  " 

"  I  think  so  ;  it  could  hardly  be  otherwise.  Promise 
to  let  me  know  wherever  I  am,  because  I  wish  to 
hold  the  marriage  crown  over  Vera's  head  at  the 
ceremony." 

"  I  promise." 

"  And  I  promise  to  come." 

Leonti  took  Raisky  on  one  side,  gave  him  a  letter 
for  Juliana  Andreevna,  and  begged  him  to  seek  her  out. 


3i6  THE    PRECIPICE 

"  Speak  to  her  conscience,"  he  said.  "  If  she 
agrees  to  return,  telegraph  to  me,  and  I  will  travel 
to  Moscow  to  meet  her." 

Raisky  promised,  but  advised  him,  in  the  meantime, 
to  rest  and  to  spend  the  winter  with  Tushin. 

The  whole  party  surrounded  the  travelling  carriage. 
Marfinka  wept  copiously,  and  Vikentev  had  already 
provided  her  with  no  less  than  five  handkerchiefs. 
When  Raisky  had  taken  his  seat  he  looked  out  once 
more,  and  exchanged  glances  with  Tatiana  Markovna, 
with  Vera  and  with  Tushin.  The  common  experience 
and  suffering  of  the  six  months,  which  had  drawn 
them  so  closely  together,  passed  before  his  vision 
with  the  rapidity,  the  varying  tone  and  colour,  and 
the  vagueness  of  a  dream. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

As  soon  as  Raisky  reached  St.  Petersburg  he  hurried 
off  to  find  Kirilov.  He  felt  an  impulse  to  touch 
his  friend  to  assure  .himself  that  Kirilov  really  stood 
before  him,  and  that  he  had  not  started  on  the  journey 
without  him.  He  repeated  to  him  his  ardent  confi- 
dence that  his  artistic  future  la}^  in  sculpture. 

"  What  new  fancy  is  this  ?  "  asked  Kirilov,  frowning 
and  plainly  expressing  his  mistrust.  "  When  I  got 
your  letter  I  thought  you  were  mad.  You  have  one 
talent  already  ;  why  do  you  want  to  follow  a  side- 
track. Take  your  pencil,  go  to  the  Academy,  and 
buy  this,"  he  said,  showing  him  a  thick  book  of  litho- 
graphed anatomical  drawings.  "  What  do  you  want 
with  sculpture  ?     It  is  too  late." 

"  I  feel  I  have  the  right  touch  here,"  he  said,  rubbing 
his  fingers  one  against  the  other. 

"  Whether  you  have  the  right  touch  or  not,  it  is 
too  late." 

"  WTiy  too  late  ?  There  is  an  ensign  I  know  who 
wields  the  chisel  with  great  success." 


THE    PRECIPICE  317 

"  An  ensign,  yes  !  But  you,  with  your  grey 
hair.  .  .  ."  Kirilov  emphasised  his  remarks  with  a 
vigorous  shake  of  the  head. 

Raisky  would  wrangle  with  him  no  longer.  He 
spent  three  weeks  in  the  studio  of  a  scupltor,  and 
made  acquaintance  with  the  students  there.  At 
home  he  worked  zealously  ;  visited  with  the  sculptor 
and  his  students  the  Isaac  Cathedral,  where  he  stood 
in  admiration  before  the  work  of  Vitali  ;  and  he  spent 
many  hours  in  the  galleries  of  the  Hermitage.  Over- 
whelmed with  enthusiasm  he  urged  Kirilov  to  start 
at  once  for  Italy  and  Rome. 

He  had  not  forgotten  Leonti's  commission,  and 
sought  out  Juliana  Andreevna  in  her  lodgings.  Wlien 
he  entered  the  corridor  he  heard  the  strains  of  a  waltz 
and,  he  thought,  the  voice  of  Koslov's  wife.  He 
sent  in  his  name  and  with  it  Leonti's  letter.  After 
a  time  the  servant,  with  an  air  of  embarrassment, 
came  to  tell  him  that  Juliana  Andreevna  had  gone 
with  a  party  of  friends  to  Zarskoe-Selo,  and  would 
travel  direct  from  there  to  Moscow.  Raisky  did 
not  think  it  necessary  to  mention  this  incident  to 
Leonti. 

His  former  guardian  had  sent  him  a  considerable 
sum  raised  by  the  mortgage  of  his  estate,  and  with 
this  in  hand  he  set  out  with  Kirilov  at  the  beginning 
ji  January  for  Dresden.  He  spent  many  hours  of 
ivevy  day  in  the  gallery,  and  paid  an  occasional  visit 
o  the  theatre.  Raisky  pressed  his  fellow-traveller 
:o  go  farther  afield  ;  he  wanted  to  go  to  Holland. 
0  England,  to  Paris. 

"  What  should  I  do  in  England  ?  "  asked  Kirilov. 
'  There,  all  the  art-treasures  are  in  private  galleries 
o  which  we  have  no  access,  and  the  public  museums 
ire  not  rich  in  great  works  of  art.  If  you  are  deter- 
nined  to  go,  you  must  go  by  yourself  from  Holland, 
will  w'ait  for  you  in  Paris." 

Raisky  agreed  to  this  proposition.  He  only  stayed 
'.  fortnight  in  England,  however,  and  was  very  much 
mpressed  by  the  mighty  sea  of  social  life.  Then  he 
lastened  back  to  his  eager  study  of    the  rich  art 


3i8  THE    PRECIPICE 

treasures  of  Paris  ;  but  he  could  not  possess  his  soul 
in  the  confusion  and  noisy  merriment,  in  the  incessant 
entertainments  of  Paris. 

In  the  early  spring  the  friends  crossed  the  Alps. 
Even  while  he  abandoned  himself  to  the  new  impressions 
which  nature,  art,  and  a  different  race  made  on  his 
mind,  Raisky  found  that  the  dearest  and  nearest  ties 
still  connected  him  with  Tatiana  Markovna,  Vera 
and  Marfinka.  When  he  watched  the  towering  crests 
of  the  waves  at  sea  or  the  snow-clad  mountain  tops 
his  imagination  brought  before  him  his  aunt's  noble 
grey  head  ;  her  eyes  looked  at  him  from  the  portraits 
of  Velasquez  and  Gerard  Dow,  just  as  Murillo's  women 
reminded  him  of  Vera,  and  he  recalled  Marfinka's 
charming  face  as  he  looked  at  the  masterpieces  of 
Greuze,  or  even  at  the  women  of  Raphael.  Vera's 
form  flitted  before  him  on  the  mountain  side  ;  he 
saw  once  more  before  him  the  precipice  overlooking 
the  narrow  plain  of  the  Volga,  and  fought  over  again 
the  despairing  struggle  from  which  he  had  emerged. 
In  the  flowery  valleys  Vera  beckoned  to  him  under 
another  aspect,  offering  her  hand  with  her  affectionate 
smile.  So  his  memories  followed  him  even  as  he 
contemplated  the  mighty  figures  of  Nature,  Art 
and  History  as  they  were  revealed  in  the  mountains 
and  the  plains  of  Italy. 

He  gave  himself  up  to  these  varied  emotions  with 
a  passionate  absorption  which  shook  the  foundations 
of  his  physical  strength.  In  Rome  he  established 
himself  in  a  studio  which  he  shared  with  Kirilov, 
and  spent  much  of  his  time  in  visiting  the  museums 
and  the  monuments  of  antiquity.  Sometimes  he 
felt  he  had  suddenly  lost  his  appreciation  of  natural 
beauty,  and  then  he  would  shut  himself  up  and  work 
for  days  together.  Another  time  he  was  absorbed 
in  the  crowded  life  of  the  city,  which  appeared  to 
him  as  a  great,  crude,  moving  picture  in  which  the 
life  of  bygone  centuries  was  reflected  as  in  a  mirror. 

Through  all  the  manifestations  of  this  rich  and 
glowing  existence  he  remained  faithful  to  his  own 
family,  and  he  was  never  more  than  a  guest  on  the 


THE    PRECIPICE  319 

foreign  soil.     In  his  leisure  hours  his   thoughts  were 

turned  homewards  ;  he  would  have  liked  to  absorb 

V  the  eternal  beauty   of   nature   and   art,   to   saturate 

I  himself  with  the  history  revealed  in  the  monuments 

I  of  Rome  in  order  that  he  might  take  his  spiritual  and 

artistic  gains  back  to  Malinovka. 

The  three  figures  of  Vera,  Marfinka,  and  his  "  little 

other  "  Tatiana  Markovna,  stretched  out  beckoning 

ands  to  him ;   and  calling  him  to  herself  with  even 

reater  insistence  than  these,  was  another,  mightier 

gure,  the  "  great  mother,"  Russia  herself. 


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Printed  in  Great  Briiaiii  by  Wyman  &  Sons,  Ltd.,  London  and  Reading. 


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